Deliver Us from Sorrow's Hold
by Epic Solemnity
Summary: SM/HP: SLASH: He'd tried everything to get rid of 'them', the Hallows. But they kept coming back to him, recognizing him as the one and only Master of Death. Jaded and desperate for eternal sleep, Harry immediately becomes wary of a possessive demon that could curse him further into the pits of hell.
1. Chapter One

**Notes:** I'm experimenting with my first crossover. You don't _really _need to know much about Black Butler. It will not follow any of the past story lines, only mentions. I'm just using the setting and the characters. Actually, this will lean heavily toward Harry (main character) and Sebastian.

**Summary:** He'd tried everything to get rid of 'them', the Hallows. But they kept coming back to him, recognizing him as the one and only Master of Death. He was cursed with immortality, eternal youth, and gifts he never asked for. Even when 'murdered', he immediately awakens in a new time, a new era, just to restart living again. Jaded and desperate for eternal sleep, Harry immediately becomes wary of a possessive demon that could curse him further into the pits of hell.

**Pairings:** Sebastian/Harry, past Harry/others

**Warnings:** Grey!Harry. Slash. Dealing with "mates" (Harry is Sebastian's mate- no its not going to be cliche). May include some OOC. This is based off the _Manga, _**not **the Anime- I haven't even seen the Anime. _Also, I do not own anything._

**Deliver Us from Sorrow's Hold: Chapter One.**

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen…"

The words were so redundant, Harry wouldn't be surprised if he spoke them when he slept. Of course, he would have to be sleeping in order for that to happen. Nowadays, sleep came to him rarely. Burdened with the past, the memories, and the dead loved ones, Harry would be lucky to sleep a consecutive three hours before waking up from nightmares. Though, that wasn't entirely true. He didn't wake up from his nightmares.

No, he woke up _to _his endless nightmare.

Harry took the edge of his cloak, throwing it dramatically behind him as he bowed to the audience. "…to tonight's show." He straightened, smiling thinly at the crowd. Tonight was an audience of high-class Muggles. It was _always _Muggles who came to these showings. Then again, he wasn't expecting anything less. He was trying to attract _attention _from his new prey.

What number Dark Lord was he on now? It's had to be at least number four. Perhaps five. He'd lost count after becoming lost in the eight alternative timelines he'd traveled to. However, there was one thing he _was _certain about. This was 1889 Britain and Harry was _hired_ by the Ministry of Magic to identify and hunt down the Dark Lord. Of course, it had taken the Minister a long while to trust him, especially when Harry didn't have a previous record in this timeline.

He told the Minister that infiltrating into this mysterious group of wizards would require someone who was independent from the Aurors and the Ministry. The Dark Lord would become more interested than threatened with just a sole wizard. If Harry played his cards right, which he would, he could impress the Dark Lord enough to warrant a private audience with him. It was all about the chase and the game. If a Dark Lord found someone worthwhile, they would eventually let their arrogance override their common sense and reveal themselves to him.

Dark Lords tended to mirror each other quite frequently and Harry had enough experience with them that he could identify a pattern.

Reluctantly, Minister Brown had agreed to hire Harry and they formed a fragile bond of trust. He'd only told a handful of Aurors about Harry's existence, and in return, Harry gave him frequent updates on his progress. So far, it was pitiful progress. He had been doing _this, _these magic shoes, in hopes of drawing _their_ attention.

Straightening from his bow, Harry swept a cool gaze across the audience. Expecting, but mocking eyes looked back at him. He stifled his dry irritation. It was incredibly amusing how different the nobles were to common-folk. After Harry first began these shows, word began to spread that this 'magician' was the real deal. His pay was increasing, which he needed, and he was gaining attention. He had been especially eager to gain the attention of the nobility.

And here he was. The Dark Lord was targeting Muggles, specifically the nobility. The killings certainly weren't as wide-spread as Voldemort's attacks had been; no, the killings in the Muggle world were subtle while the attacks in the Wizarding world were larger.

Harry and Minister Brown believed this new Dark Lord was connected somehow to Muggle nobility.

Vivid green eyes took in one man's bored and unimpressed expression as he gazed up at Harry. The nobleman gave Harry's appearance a once-over, finding it too youthful for his tastes. After all, a _teenager _couldn't possibly impress the audience, it _must _be trickery.

"Good sir," Harry greeted softly, doing nothing to stop the cold chuckle that escaped past his lips. "I have yet to start my show and you already appear bored." He stepped fluidly off the stage and onto the floor. _Bloody aristocrats. _

A few of the guests tittered, but refused to stay anything but composed in public. As Harry passed the chandelier, it darkened. The audience murmured excitingly as he entwined between the tables, dimming the small candles on the center of their tables. He almost hesitated when he caught sight of a man and a young boy in the corner of the room.

The boy was sitting cross-legged in his chair, facing Harry with an expression that was far too mature for a child of his age. Behind him, near the wall, stood a tall man that appeared to be the boy's butler.

It wasn't uncommon to see servants against the walls during the show, but Harry had never seen a butler quite like this. Cloaked in an aura of sinister darkness, the handsome man watched Harry with sharp interest. The unwavering attention took Harry slightly off-guard, simply because _no one _had ever looked at him like that before, especially a stranger.

_Could this be the Dark Lord? _Impossible. A Dark Lord wouldn't come in person. He would send someone to scout Harry out. Nonetheless, Harry eyed the man back, matching the butler's expression with cool nonchalance. He'd lived too long to be affected by things such as a _stare. _

He recovered easily enough, but spied the smirk lifting the butler's lips before he turned around. Harry's eyes were half-lidded in indifference. He had a show to do and complete.

Looping around the table, Harry approached the nobleman who had clearly expressed his earlier distaste. The nobleman watched Harry's graceful movements, clearing his face of his earlier misgivings. "Do not worry, good sir, this will be worth your while, I assure you." Harry stopped in front of the tables of peering nobility, pivoting into a stable stance. "I enjoy including my guests in the show. What better way to introduce you to the world of magic?" he whispered softly, making sure it reached the ears of all the guests. "I must ask for the first volunteer. Who is brave enough to come up here and assist me?"

And this was another example of how nobility was different from common-folk. Nobility refused to volunteer; afraid they would humiliate themselves and their family name. Common-folk had all jumped at the chance to come up on the stage.

Before he could remark on this to the guests, to taunt them and provoke them, a steady and strong voice answered.

"My butler will volunteer first."

Harry turned in the direction of the voice, spying the young boy with the eye patch. The butler easily pushed off from the wall and gave a small bow toward his master. The tall man seemed to move with grace that could easily rival Harry's own. Those eyes were focused on Harry as he approached the stage, never releasing his gaze even to entwine between the tables in front of him.

Harry smirked at the predatory gleam in the butler's eyes. He could easily play along. He was no longer the intimidated young wizard he was back in his original timeline. "Sent by your master to do the dirty work, I see." Harry bowed mockingly at the butler, finding the traditions back in this era ridiculous. Servants and masters? Men serving children and forced to be outcasts among higher nobility? Then again, 1889 was certainly not as bad as some of the other eras Harry had experienced.

"Always," the butler replied with an absurd smooth baritone. And he also spoke with sharp truth, a sort of ironic amusement.

Harry straightened from his bow, motioning for the man to walk up the stage. Upon closer inspection, Harry took note of the butler's appearance. He was relatively handsome with the same shade of black hair Harry possessed and the same pale skin. The man was taller though, at least by three or four inches. And besides the abnormal crimson eyes, there was something positively _sinister _surrounding this man.

He was almost positive that this was a higher-ranked follower to the Dark Lord. Harry would be on guard and ready for an attack.

The butler remained at the foot of the stage, his eyes half-lidded as he scrutinized Harry just as closely. Whatever he saw there, it appeared as if he was pleased. "I insist you lead the way." His crimson eyes pinned Harry with dark amusement. "After all, I am but a mere butler."

_I'm sure you are… _

Harry covered his suspicion with a smile, turning his back on the butler and taking the stage. He was confident enough to expose his back, only because he had his wand firmly in his gloved-grip. "And what is the name of my first volunteer?" he inquired as soon as they were both settled on stage.

"Sebastian, butler of Phantomhive household."

There were quiet murmurs from the audience as they recognized the surname. Unlike the audience, the surname didn't faze Harry in the least, simply because he didn't take much interest in society's highest ranking families. Then again, it might do him some good to know the prey _his _prey hunted after.

He didn't bat an eye as he flicked his wand, causing a stool to roll onto stage. He placed it directly between the butler and himself, forcing Sebastian to take a step away from his smothering proximity. "Well, Sebastian, butler of Phantomhive household, I would like you to look in this box." Harry plucked a medium-sized box off the stool and passed it to an observing Sebastian. "Is there anything inside?"

The butler took the box from Harry's hands, but not before his index finger lingered a bit too long against his wrist. Harry ignored the touch, his expression stone as he watched the man open the lid and look inside the box. His crimson eyes then jumped toward Harry, inquisitive. "Yes," he acknowledged, taking out the object inside. With a white-gloved hand, the tall man showed the audience. "A quill."

Harry hummed softly. "And nothing else?" He leaned closer peering closely at the man. "No false bottom? Nothing unusual?"

Sebastian cast him an amused glance before he knocked at the bottom of the box and tinkered around with it. With fluid motions, Sebastian set it back on the stool. "No, nothing but the quill."

The young wizard then grabbed the box from the stool, opening it and showing the audience the truth to the butler's words. "No false bottom, nothing inside but a mere quill." He then placed the quill back inside the box and placed it on the stool. He waved a hand through the stool's three legs, revealing there was no mirror or illusion. "No secret mirror, nothing that could possibly cause trickery." He then straightened and patted the box with his fingers. "Name one thing you desire, Sebastian."

Burning crimson eyes suddenly pinned Harry with a heated stare. The overpowering hunger in those eyes twisted Harry's stomach uneasily, but he pushed it away, intent to keep his cool. The smile Sebastian gave drew Harry's close attention. His eyes zeroed on the butler's sharp teeth peeking slightly past the parted lips. The butler made sure only to give a smile wide enough to reveal his teeth to Harry and not the audience.

A vampire?

Harry placed his gloved hand against his mouth to hide his blossoming smirk. It would certainly explain the few mysteries around this man; the sinister aura, the grace, the red eyes, and the fangs. It could also explain the butler's obvious blood-lust toward Harry.

He blinked, bringing himself back to the present. He patted the box again, hard enough to cause a few members in the audience to jump. "Something that can _fit _inside this box," Harry continued, urging the man to give a palpable answer. "Something other than a quill, I hope." A few aristocrats chuckled.

Sebastian tore his gaze from Harry and looked at the box. Harry expected the butler to inquiry what his master would want, but he surprisingly answered for himself.

"A cat."

Harry scoffed in delight, not expecting _that _answer from _this_ man. And it was such a simple request. "A cat," Harry repeated, smiling at the audience. In the past, his smile had always been fake, broken, but this one time, he was able to give a semblance of a true smile. "Then a cat is what you shall have." He tapped his wand against the box lid, nonverbally transfiguring the quill inside to a small kitten. He'd gotten pretty good at Transfiguration throughout the years. This time, especially, he made sure to research more. Being a magician meant he would need to transfigure things quickly and subtly.

He stood back, nodding at the box. "Please, open the box and claim your prize."

Sebastian easily opened the lid off the box and peered inside, his earlier sinister aura somehow disappearing quickly. The butler's face softened and he reached inside, picking up the black kitten with abnormally gentle hands. Stars seemed to grow in the man's eyes as he cradled the kitten close to him, oblivious of the world around him. He paid particular sharp interest in massaging the kitten's paws.

Harry stared, torn between disbelief and amusement. He barely remembered to give a bow when the audience began clapping their approval. That seemed to snap Sebastian out of his haze as well. "Thank you for volunteering, Sebastian, butler of Phantomhive household." He flashed the butler a mocking grin as he ushered the man down the stairs.

He was tired. He just wanted to finish this show. Unfortunately, his suspicion regarding Sebastian was for naught. A simple vampire wasn't even worth his attention, it didn't even register on Harry's radar. This hunt was getting ridiculous. The Dark Lord was completely incognito and his followers were just the same. Minister Brown would think Harry was _lacking _if this continued. Granted, the Ministry could hardly do anything either. The Dark Lord had been a factor in the Wizarding world for a good year now and a few months in the Muggle world. The Aurors hadn't even caught a simple follower.

Harry turned back to the audience, going through the motions and having a bit less enthusiasm than before. He still performed the tricks correctly and the guests still expressed their enjoyment and excitement. At the end, Harry had taken a deep bow in mock gratitude and had abruptly Disapparated from the stage.

**Deliver Us**

After the show, Harry found himself sitting quietly in his bare dressing room, waiting.

He stared at himself in the mirror that was given to him, a gift from his employer. A deep sneer marred his handsome features and his green eyes seemed unnaturally bright. He angrily turned the mirror away from him, banishing the sight of his pale and youthful appearance. He had lost weight again. The skin was stretched across his face, causing his cheekbones and jawline to stick out far more than usual.

He pushed the hand-held mirror across the vanity with his fingers, sliding it off the edge and onto the ground. It shattered pleasantly and Harry turned his head to the side, staring at the broken mirror with haunted and hallow eyes. "What a fool you are," Harry whispered to himself. "To think you could simply just throw them away!" For a long moment, he stared at the multiple Harry's before sharp nausea burned his stomach.

Leaning forward in his chair, Harry pressed his forehead against his knees and gave a heave. Nothing came out of his mouth, as there was nothing in his stomach. His was still human, despite it all. His body began to tremble and he gave a choking gag, sick and broken. He inhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes shut, hating the endless whip-lash he now lived with. It was endless, it was… endless.

Death really was a cruel and sick bastard. He had granted Harry what many men and women desired; immortality. Death had been careful to make certain this _gift _was also considered a _curse. _The Master of Death could never escape this fate, this _gift _of immortality. Harry had foolishly believed burying the Resurrection Stone and snapping the Elder Wand would make it go away. At the time, he hadn't given much thought to the consequences of possessing all three items.

And what made him even more qualified as the _true _Master of Death was his acceptance of death.

It was five years later, after thinking everything was back to normal, when he began noticing that he was still in his seventeen-year-old body. After that discovery, he had found the Resurrection Stone sitting neatly on his nightstand the next morning. The morning after that, he had found the Elder Wand, pieced back together, sitting innocently on his desk.

The feeling Harry had gotten when the Hallows came back to him had been sheer panic. With Hermione's help, Harry had tried to destroy them again. It seemed to have worked, but then they'd show up a year later and his body had never aged a bit. That was when Harry grew creative with his plans of destruction. He did rituals, he did potions, he did Muggle means, and he had even tried to get others to take possession of the Hallows by a duel.

By the time Hermione and Ron turned fifty, Harry realized that nothing was going to work. Death had deemed Harry the _true _and only Master. It was simply because Harry didn't _want _this power that Death was pleased to keep the Hallows forever in Harry's possession.

And then Harry tried to kill himself. He didn't remember how many times he had committed suicide in desperation.

The sensation of dying and awakening again was always horrific. What made it even more horrific was the fact that he would awaken to different timelines. It had been the 1700s first. Out of sheer desperation, Harry killed himself again and ended up waking up in the 1600s. After that, it was the 1900s briefly before he slit his throat out of overwhelming misery.

There was no pattern, no reason. Even when he was murdered he woke up to alternative times. He didn't know if it was really the _past _he traveled to or the past of another alternative dimension. Hell, he didn't even know if he was actually in a damning nightmare. He stopped caring. He stopped researching. He stopped _living. _

He was pushing one hundred and fifty-years-old. He had traveled to eight different times. He had _died _eight times. At first, he refused to get involved with the Dark Lords that seemed to pop up whenever and wherever he was. But by avoiding the Dark Lord and any other interactions, Harry had almost slipped further into the depths of his insanity from boredom. He needed _something _that would challenge him, excite him. He'd found that his methods were becoming more brutal, more dark than the first two times he'd hunted after Dark Lords.

It was frightening how far he'd fallen. How long could he go before _he _turned into the Dark Lord? He paused at that thought, the idea somehow entertaining him more than it should have.

Harry sat up from his chair, pushing his darkening thoughts away and twisting the ring on his finger. Wherever he went, they followed. The Hallows. He stopped throwing them away and began wearing his Resurrection Stone on his finger. When he wanted to torment himself, he would summon his mother. Always just his mother.

Suddenly, someone rapped sharply on his door, tearing Harry away from his depths of hell. Leaning further against his chair, he placed his feet upon the vanity and angled the Elder Wand toward the door. "Come in," Harry murmured softly. His dressing room, given to him by the owner of the establishment he performed at, was dim, lit only by a few lanterns across the room. There was no personal affects inside, only a vanity, a couch, and a small kitchenette.

The door opened and Harry prepared himself. Would this finally be it? Was there going to be a confrontation?

"Mister Harrison," a familiar voice greeted. "I hope we're not disturbing you."

Harry relaxed his hold on his wand but refused to lower it from the other side of the vanity. They didn't need to know he was pointing a wand at them. "Not at all, do come in." Harry had an idea that Sebastian would find him after the show, perhaps in an attempt to suck him dry, but he hadn't expected the younger boy to accompany the vampire as well.

He supposed he could have stood up in the presence of nobility, it was probably expected, but he was far too indifferent to acknowledge traditions of this world. Harry watched through cool and suspicious eyes as master and servant entered the room with an invisible air of royalty surrounding them. They were both dressed for the era; ribbons, ties, ruffles, and cloaks. They both had some sort of family seal on their person, indicating that the Phantomhive estate was influential.

"Please, sit down," Harry invited impassively, bored. "I would offer some tea, but I'm afraid I'm fresh out," he said dryly.

They both studied the barren room. "It looks like you're fresh out of many things," the boy remarked, his gaze falling on the pouch of money on the vanity. A few coins were spilling out, and a few were on the floor next to the broken mirror. "I am Earl Ciel Phantomhive, it is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Harrison." He didn't smile, the boy. He appeared brooding as he held out a gloved hand to Harry.

He stared at the dressed-up boy playing the part of an adult enforcer. If it wasn't for the stubborn frown and those haunted eyes, Harry would assume this was a complete and utter joke. But there was something familiar in that wide blue eye. If the boy was already an earl, that simply meant he'd lost his parents already. And it had to have been a tragic accident, judging from the boy's extreme determination to appear capable.

Just as the child was about to withdraw his hand, Harry dropped his crossed legs on the vanity and stood up. He was inches taller than the child, but not so much that the scene would look as ridiculous as it truly was. He shook the boy's hand firmly before dropping it. He'd play along. "What do I owe this pleasure?"

Sitting back down on his chair, Harry crossed his legs and set down the wand on the vanity. Two sets of eyes jumped to the Elder Wand before they looked back at him.

"I would like to ask if you've heard of the recent killings in London." The boy, Ciel, went right down to business as he sat on the couch opposite of Harry. He copied the wizard's posture and crossed his legs, a lazy hand holding up his head. "Four noblemen and their staff members were killed. Their cause of death still remains a mystery. The authorities believe it was a type of poison to kill them all efficiently, but the autopsy turned out negative."

Harry splayed his fingers across his cheek, peering at the boy between his index and middle finger. Harry set his face into a cool and impassive mask, not giving a sliver of emotion away. But just _what _was this child's business? Why was an earl after answers involving a murder case? From the boy's tone, it appeared as if this wasn't the first time he'd investigated cases.

That interested him. For the many eras he lived in, he knew some members of royalty often did 'deeds' for their queen. Some of those deeds involved covering up crimes that connected to the royal family. Other times it was using underhanded means to solve cases. It was a strong possibility that this child was the heir of an accomplished family and had to pick up where his parents left off. Poor child, running errands for corrupted royalty and power-hungry aristocrats. Harry supposed that was why the child had a vampire as a body-guard.

Vivid green eyes jumped to Sebastian, looking at the vampire for the first time since he entered the room. The tall figure was standing motionless behind his master, his eyes intense as he watched Harry's reactions. Pity, they would never get anything from looking at his face unless he wanted them to.

"I've certainly heard of the killings, yes," Harry replied, looking back at the boy. He waved his opposite hand in a lazy manner. "It's all over the newspapers." His lips quirked into a self-satisfied smirk when he noticed the anger rippling across the boy's face. He wanted to feel pity for the boy, he truly did. But this was _Harry's _case, not some mere Muggle and his vampire butler.

"Yes, I understand that." Ciel uncrossed his legs and leaned on his cane, inching closer toward Harry. "I want to know if you are aware of anything more concrete, something that would clear up the—"

"What are you really implying, child?" Harry interrupted, giddy at spotting the insulted flare of the boy's nostrils. Earls probably didn't get interrupted and _this _earl probably didn't like being addressed as 'child'. "It sounds to me like you already have your own conclusions for this case."

Ciel and Sebastian traded a look before the boy directed a stubborn frown toward Harry. "I refuse to believe magic is real," he said firmly. "I know there has to be an alternative way these noblemen are being killed. And I think a gifted magician who appeared out of nowhere could accomplish such a task."

Harry gave a closed-mouth chuckle, startling the boy. "Ah, you think I am the perpetrator. And what would be my motive?"

It was if he had handed the boy a challenge and the young earl was eager to complete the task successfully. The child grinned callously. "You have the appearance of an aristocrat. Could it be that you are a bastard child of a high nobleman and was given up at birth? You may not know the identity of your father, so you're jumping from nobleman to nobleman."

It _was _an interesting notion and something that Harry had to keep in mind for this Dark Lord. It was eerily similar to Tom Riddle's past, with the exception that he'd already known who his Muggle father was. He hated to admit that he hadn't thought of that angle before. It would explain why the killings of the Muggles were so sparse and subtle. The Dark Lord could simply be looking for his father or mother.

Harry removed his gloved hand from his face and stared down at the shattered mirror. A twisted smile crossed his lips. "Interesting theory, child, but I'm well aware of whom my parents are and they were both murdered when I was a small child." Emerald green eyes snapped up to catch Ciel's. "Much like your parents were."

Ciel stared at him and Harry stared back.

"Does it bother you?" Harry murmured in question. "That you're being used by the queen to do her dirty work?" The slight widening on the boy's eye affirmed Harry's suspicions. "It is often in my experience that the manipulator is the one behind the destruction. How do you know your parents weren't as loyal as the queen would have liked them to be? You may be succumbing to the very same woman who had a hand in your parents' downfall."

The rage in the boy's eye was tantalizing. Harry watched, intrigued and satisfied. He wondered if the child had ever considered that before.

"You are very skillful at the dance," a voice purred before Ciel could respond. Sebastian smiled darkly, his crimson eyes seeming to _glow. _"You easily avoided the topic concerning _you _and turned it around on my young master. It's a pity I'm not as easily distracted from you."

Harry stood up abruptly, certain those eyes were glowing. Vampires' eyes did not glow. In fact, the only creature that fit Sebastian's characteristics was a bloody demon. _A demon! _He'd only encountered a demon once before. The thing had been insane and Harry only ended up wounding it enough to get away.

He turned away from Sebastian and focused on the stewing child. It would be best if he'd play oblivious and not encourage the demon's wrath or awareness. "I am not the killer you're looking for, Earl Phantomhive." Harry pivoted, collecting the gold pouch and pocketed it. He then raised his hood, covering his features. It was time to depart. He wouldn't be contacted tonight by the Dark Lord's associates and he had no reason to stay here.

Stepping over the broken mirror, Harry approached the child, grinning softly despite himself. He kneeled before the boy, reluctantly seeing his old self reflected back in that single blue eye. This child was being used, perhaps by more than one manipulator. The queen wasn't the only manipulator here. Demons weren't exactly known to think too highly on humans, unless they were expecting something in return. Harry had also been used on more than one occasion. Dumbledore and Death were just two of the major players.

He held out his hand, motioning for the boy to take it. Next to him, the demon shifted, most likely ruffled at Harry's close proximity to his master. "I'm not going to hurt you. Your _butler_ won't let that happen, will he?" he inquired dryly, sensing the child's stubborn refusal.

Ciel didn't look too thrilled as he held out his hand, allowing Harry to drop a coin in his palm. Before the boy could angrily demand what he was doing, Harry curled Ciel's fingers over the coin. Upon his finger, the black Resurrection Stone glittered maliciously for the room to see but Harry ignored it pointedly. "For your own good and well-being, I will give you a warning. Find a way to avoid looking further into this case. You must realize things aren't always what they seem to be." He patted the boy's closed fist and stood up from his half-kneeling position.

Ciel opened his fingers, revealing a single white lily. He stared at it, twirling the small flower between his fingers with veiled awe. His lips then tugged down as he looked up at Harry. "Magic is real."

"Is that a question or a statement?" Harry wondered, smirking down at the boy. _Fool_, he'd given the child many hints already. Surely someone wasn't _that _stubborn to believe there was no magic? Especially when they knew demons were real. "You'll have to determine that answer for yourself and the implications that come with it."

He turned toward the door, intent to leave the dressing room for tonight. Only, Sebastian stepped in his line of sight, preventing him from leaving. Harry stiffened, his eyes narrowing and his fingers tightening their hold on his wand. They stared at one another, sizing the other up. For a brief moment, Harry experienced a thrilling anticipation at the possibility of a worthwhile battle. The demon he had encountered before had been insane and starving. _This _one looked intelligent and capable of doing some harm, of presenting an even larger challenge.

"Your soul is absolutely _divine_," the demon murmured in controlled yearning. Sebastian had most likely picked up on Harry's awareness of what he was. There were no pretenses between them now, only, it wasn't certain the demon knew _what _Harry was in return.

"Sebastian, what are you—"

The demon cut Ciel off with ease. "Far more tempting than anything I have ever encountered before, it's almost implausible." He tapped a finger against his lips as he watched Harry's motionless and unimpressed figure. "It's such a pity I can never hope to eat it. I can only possess it."

Harry's eyes turned to slits. Riddles. He hated riddles, especially when they were presented by creatures who _stunk _of manipulation and greed. He raised his wand, pointing it steadily at the demon. Crimson eyes seemed to widen in pleasure and a pleased smile crossed the butler's face. "Get out of my way, demon."

"Can you really do much damage with that?" Sebastian wondered in amusement.

Was he playing ignorant or did he truly not know what a wizard was? Harry smirked. Whatever the answer was, Harry was eager to prove to him that there _were _wizards in existence who could knock demons off their imaginary thrones. "Why don't you continue standing there and see for yourself?"

"Sebastian, step aside and let him leave," Ciel commanded sharply.

It was if the boy held a certain power over the demon. Harry vaguely remembered reading something about contracts between humans and demons, but he'd have to look it up again and brush up on his knowledge. He watched as Sebastian's face slipped into ugly fury and displeasure before it quickly morphed into a calm smile. The demon stepped aside and bowed to Harry, holding an arm toward the door.

Lowering his wand, Harry approached the door, pausing next to the demon. Elation cursed through him as he leaned in close to the demon. "You heel nicely for your master." He smiled sweetly, reaching forward and patting the butler's head. "Good boy."

The demon's pupils turned to cat-like slits and he hissed softly, revealing the sharp teeth. Harry chuckled darkly, removing his hand and exiting the door to his dressing room. It was best not to push his luck.

At least not yet.


	2. Chapter Two

**2. Chapter Two**

Harry dropped the coins on the counter with a clatter. "Keep the change." He secured his hood more firmly around his head before picking up the small cup of soup.

The server behind the counter expressed his deep thanks of gratitude. Harry gave a half grimace, half grin as he watched the soup chef scrap the coins off the counter with trembling fingers.

Harry was used to poverty. He _lived _in constant poverty. Jumping from era to era didn't necessarily mean he could drag along his vault of gold with him. Each time he woke up, he needed to start over, as there was nothing in his possession, save for the Invisibility Cloak, Resurrection Stone, and the Elder Wand.

The windows of the soup kitchen were foggy and cracked and the silver instruments were beginning to tarnish. It was a surprise this man got business, but then again, the East End of London lived in poverty and crime. A soup kitchen like this must be luxurious to some of the inhabitants of London. Harry was just lucky he had a job this time around, even if it didn't pay a comfortable amount. He'd arrived in this timeline three months ago. He'd gone hungry the first week and could barely find scraps for the second week.

"Y-you forgot your roll, young sir."

Turning back around, Harry gathered the palm-sized bread, noticing it was stale but still edible. He nodded his thanks to the chef and turned to the streets of the East End. Many men, women, and children were huddled against the alleyways, taking shelter in crates and small make-shift tents. A few fires were lit in barrels, housing countless of people who hoped to ward off the early spring chill.

Harry walked silently down the street, sipping at his chicken broth. He was well aware of the eyes following him from the depths of the shadows, though he wasn't too concerned. He knew the demon had been following him the past two days, never revealing himself and never slipping. Harry didn't know what the creature wanted, though, he expected it had something to do with his _delectable _soul and the taunting he had given the demon that night in his dressing room.

Either that, or Sebastian was performing surveillance on behalf of his master. They were probably still suspicious of him despite his rather obvious reassurances that he had nothing to do with the killings.

No matter what the demon's purpose was, Harry felt more prepared to meet this new threat. He'd gone to the Wizarding public library the night of their first encounter. The first thing he looked up was the contract between humans and demons.

He'd been right. There _was _a contract between Ciel Phantomhive and Sebastian. There was no other way a demon would address a human as 'young master' and serve as a human butler.

It was called a Faustian Contract, a simple bargain made between human and demon. The human would simply request what he desired from the demon, and in return, the demon had the right to consume the human's soul after the specified deeds were completed. The Faustian Contract was sealed by a mark. Somewhere, both Ciel and Sebastian bore the seal of their contract. The mark would also serve the purpose of a locator in which the demon would always be able to locate his human wherever he may be.

When Harry had read the details of the Contract, he wondered what Ciel had bargained for in exchange for his soul. What had been so important to a mere child? Harry imagined it could be anything from protection to power. Ciel was trying to take over where his parents had left off; he was trying to be a capable replacement. It would certainly explain the demon's influence and the Contract.

After reading about the Faustian Contract, Harry had then looked up protection and wards against demons. There hadn't been anything that would successfully ward off demons, but there had been a rune that would deflect any sort of physical contact with a demon. While Harry could use magic to defend himself against demons, he would be powerless against a demon if it came to physical combat. Because of that, Harry had transfigured a piece of metal into the Celtic rune and had placed it on a chain around his neck.

In all actuality, he didn't intend to interact with Ciel or Sebastian again. But because Sebastian had made another move, Harry would _know _his enemies and act accordingly.

Brooding, Harry acted oblivious to his permanent shadow as he swept down the dark cobblestone streets. As he balanced on the edge of the sidewalk, Harry passed an especially dark alleyway and heard a light sniffle. He paused, slowly turning around to stare at the small figure curled up against the side of a building.

She couldn't have been older than twenty-five, only a handful of years older than Harry's physical body. Her brown hair and wide brown eyes reminded him vividly of Hermione.

Harry's gut wrenched painfully and he turned his back on her freezing figure, grinding his teeth together. After all these bloody years… he still thought of them. He was simply _pathetic. _

Seeing this woman, an almost mirror-image of Hermione, reminded him of what he had discovered today. While he had been at the Wizarding library, Harry had stumbled across something extremely unnerving.

"_May I ask if there is a copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard available?" Harry inquired the clerk at the desk. _

_The witch gave him a quizzical look. "I'm sorry; I don't think there is a book of that title published." _

_Harry stared. For the first time since his timeline jumping, he began to grow panicky. "It's a children's book, full of tales… including the Tale of the Three Brothers. Surely you must have heard of it. You must be a Muggle-born, then. Please, just check. It was written by Beedle the Bard in the 15__th__ century, around 1490." _

_Her eyes grew half-lidded in irritation. "I'm a pure-blood witch, thank you very much. I have heard of no such story." She leered at him, leaning across the desk. "Are _you _sure you're not a Muggle-born, child?" _

She had refused to help him further. And as Harry had walked out of the library, he could have sworn he had heard Death's ominous chuckle follow at his heels.

The eras he had lived in before had been met with dead ends regarding his research. He had begun not _caring_. But this was 1889, one of the first eras Harry was active enough to pursue the publication of Beedle the Bard's book. The other eras he had lived in had been before the 15th century, before the publication of the Tale of the Three Brothers. During those eras, he had tried looking for his ancestors, but never found any.

He had shrugged it off, thinking they must have had different surnames by that time and too buried for him to track down. It never occurred to him that there was an ulterior meaning behind his empty-handed results.

Despite all the dead ends, Harry still had _one _plan to get himself out of this eternal life. If he found an ancestor who had possession of an Invisibility Cloak, or _anyone _who had possession of a Hallow before him, then he could brainstorm a way out of this.

But today proved that Death may have played around with more than just timelines. What if Death had erased the Hallows' past? What if there were no three brothers? Or what if Harry was forced to wake up in alternative universes that had _no _Hallows? And if that were the case, then Harry was struck with the cold realization that he could never escape this. He had tried to come to terms with this long ago, and he'd thought he had, but he had never imagined Death could be so powerful that he could erase the Hallows and their past.

Pushing away what little anxiety he had, Harry turned back around, slowly approaching the freezing young woman. The cold spring air was effectively turning her toes blue from the lack of stockings and shoes. Her thin arms were wrapped around her drawn-up legs and her frail body was trembling madly.

Crouching down in front of her, Harry slid the soup and roll toward her. She roused from her reverie and stared at the food offerings before looking up at him. The first warning Harry acknowledged was the total awareness of this woman's eyes. Homeless women did not have the look of a sharp predator. The second warning Harry received was the slight twitching of her lips.

"What? No warming charm, sweetie?"

She attacked then, giving a cry of wild hunger. Her wand came springing forward between her fingers, somehow hiding up her thin sleeve. The malicious smile on her face indicated that she would target him viciously and she would not miss. She was a mixture of a determined Hermione and a sinful Bellatrix Lestrange.

Harry watched, a cool calm to her passionate rage. He had lived too long as a war wizard to wear his adrenaline on his face and let it control him. Of course, that didn't mean he didn't _enjoy _a good duel. It was so much more fun to duel when he wasn't an awkward schoolboy wizard. Spells and curses came to him naturally and quickly, especially when he had possession of the Elder Wand. Nonverbal and powerful was his usual style.

He already had his wand out before she had lunged. Her talon-like fingernails just barely caressed his cheek before Harry blasted her against the wall. A sickening _crack _snapped through the dark and quiet alleyway as she slid down to the ground, lifeless. Harry stood up calmly, staring blankly at the woman at his feet.

"If you didn't want the food, you could have simply said so," he murmured softly, brushing off the dust that settled on the front of his cloak.

Bowing his head, Harry's shoulders stiffened when he felt the presence of others. _Of course_ the girl was just the appetizer.

He pivoted slowly on his foot, eyeing the three cloaked wizards approaching him from the mouth of the alleyway. They wore black masks that seemed to blend in with their deep, hooded cloaks. Harry drank in the sight greedily. This was exactly what he had been expecting. It was _exactly_ what he _wanted. _Somehow, his magic shows had drawn the attention of his Dark Lord and the man was sending out his followers to scope him out.

Harry just needed to prove that he was a solo threat. The Dark Lord would either approach Harry himself or he would try to lure him into his own circle of followers. And in order for that to happen, there needed to be at least _one _wizard left alive. He couldn't kill all of them.

"Nothing but a mere child…" one of the cloaked figures murmured in displeasure.

Something ignited inside of Harry, pushing past decades of jadedness and quiet isolation. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed battles. "Child?" Harry repeated dubiously.

He aimed his wand at the trio of wizards before giving it a sharp flick. The jet of magic soared directly above one man's shoulder, barely skimming it. He watched, amused, as the three wizards lowered in defensive stances, looking over their shoulders at the lost curse.

"You missed!" One man laughed heartily, pointing his wand at a cornered Harry.

"Did I?" Harry wondered. He matched the man's tone easily and even offered a jolly chuckle at the end.

He crouched down low, eagerly watching the scene unfold. The wizards clearly sensed something was amiss and turned to look over their shoulders. The street lamp that was anchored on the sidewalk was cut cleanly in half from Harry's curse. With a groan, it began descending down on top of them.

The trio of wizards scattered just in time and Harry Disapparated, appearing on the top of the building. He looped his wand in a tight circle, pitching it in a high arc above his head before he cast the string of magic down toward his victim.

The glowing whip-like curse curled around the unsuspecting wizard's throat in possessive glee. Harry sniffed in amusement, pulling his arm back and yanking the curse and the man off the ground. The wizard gave a muffled cry as he was lifted off the sidewalk by his neck. As he ascended upward by Harry's curse, his neck dislocated, killing him in a matter of seconds. The two wizards left standing quickly severed Harry's rope-curse just seconds too late.

Jaded green eyes, now alight with something akin to dark enjoyment, watched as the dead wizard was detached from his curse before dropping heavily to the ground. The two remaining wizards craned their necks back to look up at Harry. The 'younger' wizard balanced his heels on the edge of the building's roof and peered down at them.

"Is that really all you have?" Harry inquired, bored. Was this going to be another quick era? Had these followers really avoided detection from the Aurors?

Granted, the Ministry was created in 1629, and it wasn't quite as established now, in 1889, as it was in the late1990's, but so far, these _threatening _wizards were lacking. Then again, Harry knew the dangers involved in underestimating one's enemy. These men saw him as a mere teenager, a child, and hadn't prepared themselves as accordingly as they should have.

Harry needed to do the same and prepare for the worse.

A jet of red warmed Harry's ear as it whizzed past. He blinked, sidestepping another curse as it flew in his direction. His adrenaline spiked as one of the men below disappeared and Apparated on the roof behind him. A grin tugged at his lips as he pivoted on the ledge, blocking another hex coming from the ground. He just barely transferred his shield to his right where the second wizard was approaching, attacking with wild vigor. This simply wouldn't do. It was better, but he was still bored.

With feline grace, Harry leaped backwards and off the roof. His hood tugged down and his hair was a destructive whirlwind as he let gravity take its course. Flicking his wand smartly, he sent a hex above him just as the wizard peeked over the edge. The cloaked figure gave a shout as his mask took the hit, but he was able to block it enough to remain unharmed. Harry flung his arms out in exhilaration, giving a true laugh as he fell.

Just before the wizard on the ground could inflict any damage to his falling body, Harry pressed his toes into the side of the building and _pushed. _Wrapping his magic around himself, Harry's body became weightless and he began flying. It took him _many _years to teach himself the art of flying. He had always remembered how Voldemort and a few of his Death Eaters were able to fly. If those brainless idiots could pick up the ability, Harry thought he could do it just as simply.

Only, it hadn't been that easy. There was a major difference between Apparating and flying. Harry had sustained a few broken bones and a few ruptured organs before he got the knack for it. When he perfected his ability, Harry thought the sensation easily triumphed riding on a broomstick.

His figure was a mere blur as he shot past the Muggles in the alleyways. They made noises of surprise and fright as their fires flickered and extinguished. Not seconds later, two other strong currents of wind flew past them, upsetting them further. Harry glanced back, surprised and envious that at least one of his pursuers was able to fly. The other was Apparating from rooftop to rooftop in hopes of keeping Harry and his comrade in his sight.

Harry chuckled, soaring past the Muggle homes and buildings. He reduced his speed when they reached an area where trees were growing thicker and buildings were becoming sparse. As expected, the masked wizard matched Harry's speed and began firing curses one after the other. One of the hexes burned hotly across his shoulder and Harry's stomach lurched in nausea as the pain seared. He looped around his attacker, grabbing the wizard's arm, tipping them both unevenly.

"Who are you?" Harry murmured underneath his breath. "Who are you working for?"

"I can ask the same!" the man spat.

They entwined around each other, hardly paying attention to their surroundings as they flew. The cloaked figure tried to ward off Harry's reaching grasp and was able to curl his hand around the thin wrist to stop him. Harry smiled widely, having expected that move. With his free hand, he pressed the tip of his wand underneath the man's mask and flicked upward. The black material came off easily, revealing a pale man with even paler features.

It looked remarkably like Lucius Malfoy, but there were subtle differences that firmly debunked Harry's wild surprise. The eyes were dark blue and the hair wasn't as blond.

Before he could retain anything further, Harry happened to glance up and finally take note of his surroundings. His eyes widened comically when he spotted the large tree standing directly in his path. Both he and the Malfoy-look-alike gave a shout and parted, unable to avoid getting nicked by the branches.

It was a simple brush with the branches, but at the speed Harry was going, it caused a major crash landing. The world spun as he toppled rapidly from the air, spinning and summersaulting before finally hitting the ground. The air was knocked out of him and it took a good minute to get oxygen back in his lungs.

When he was able to breathe, he was overcome with searing pain. Harry gave a chuckle and a cry as he looked down, staring at the dagger imbedded in his stomach. They weren't incompetent after all. The Malfoy-look-alike must have gotten him right before they parted. Perhaps it was Harry who had underestimated them.

Then again, this wasn't a normal dagger. Harry frowned deeply, staring at the object in his stomach. It wasn't a dagger, no; this was a lot smaller and thinner. Was this… was this a _cutlery knife_?

"He _is _human after all," a voice jeered from above him. "That is certainly unusual for our circumstance."

Harry hissed beneath his breath, jerking his chin up to stare at the tree. He grimaced when he saw _him, _the demon. Sebastian was currently crouching on a branch with knives poised and glimmering between his fingers. He was peering down at Harry with narrowed and amused eyes. Though, the demon's humor fell prey to curious concern as Harry choked on blood.

"For our circumstance?" Harry repeated with a whisper, spitting out blood-stained saliva. "What the bloody hell are you on about? Are you trying to _kill _me? With silverware?" _What a way to go… _He thought dying of Dragon Pox had been humiliating, but dying of silverware was twice that.

"It was merely an experiment," came the hushed reply.

Before Harry could reprimand the demon further, a branch snapped in the distance. His wand was in his hand in an instant and he got to his knees. The knife in his stomach was cumbersome, numbing, but he'd felt worse before. If Sebastian truly wanted to kill him, the knife would have been imbedded somewhere far more vital. However, that _did _beg the questions as to why the demon had thrown it in the first place.

Casting a nonverbal _Silenco _on his person, he began crawling to the trunk of the tree. The woods would provide good coverage for him and unfortunately for his enemies as well. Leaning his shoulder against the trunk, Harry raised his wand and aimed it in the direction where the noise originated. The trunk would provide some protection should the wizard come at him suddenly.

His eyes narrowed as the knife proved difficult to breathe around. The blood from the stab wound was incredibly hot as it streamed down his cold skin. His left hand toyed with the handle, trying to dislodge it.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Sebastian murmured quietly. Though, it didn't come from the trees, it was whispered directly in Harry's ear from behind. "It is such an unclean environment you're kneeling in. Not only would you have to worry about blood loss, but infection." He hardly sounded concerned, only matter-of-factly.

Harry snapped his gaze behind him, spying the demon all but curling around his backside. "Go _away_, demon. I can handle myself just fine."

Red eyes widened only a fraction before they squinted in pleasure. "You can, can't you?" His gaze traced obsessively across Harry's face. "It's such a refreshing change." The demon leaned closer, his lips nearly tracing his ear. "But I don't like competing for your attention like this."

Nonchalantly ignoring the demon at his back, but keeping his senses open just in case anymore silverware were to fly, Harry kept his steady attention on the woods around him. He was vaguely aware of Sebastian disappearing behind him, prancing off someplace in the woods. Harry just hoped he had left for good. Demons, even a collared one like Sebastian, always unsettled him. They were quick, powerful, and dangerously cunning when they wanted to be.

The shift in atmosphere was his only warning before the green curse came at him from his unprotected side. Harry whirled around, barely having time to levitate the stone as a shield for the Killing Curse. The curse shattered the stone, sending small pebbles scattering in every which direction. Harry rolled on the ground before springing to his feet. He pulled the bloody knife out of his stomach with an impatient tug and flung it at the Malfoy-look-alike.

The blond dodged the knife but was unable to protect himself against the cutting hex that followed quickly after. It caught him across the shoulder, ripping open his cloak and slicing his skin. The man only grunted, having enough sense to raise a shield before him as Harry cast another curse.

"_D-demon!" _

Harry frowned as he heard the startled yell in the distance. That would be his second assailant, the one who had Apparated after Harry and the Malfoy-look-alike. The man sounded positively terrified and a high-pitched scream soon followed before it was abruptly silenced. Only a man truly horrified would ever make a sound like that.

Three out of the four wizards sent to collect him were dead. And Harry hadn't even had a proper duel yet. He needed to allow one wizard to leave alive in order for their Dark Lord to know about Harry's ability. The Dark Lord's ego would get in the way and he'd eventually crawl out of whatever hole he was hiding in to fight Harry for himself.

The blond wizard tensed, looking startlingly behind his shoulder in the distance. He then turned back to Harry. "This is not over."

Harry smiled humorlessly, his adrenaline once again buried beneath decades of isolation and boredom. He watched as the blond Disapparated, unaware that he was being manipulated by Harry just to lure his Lord out of hiding. Harry just hoped next time he'd bring enough wizards capable enough to engage in a duel. The chase tonight was fun, yes, but it could only last for so long. Even his Elder Wand seemed to whimper at the lack of strenuous exercise.

He frowned deeply, his gaze jumping to the edge of the clearing where Sebastian was adjusting his crimson-stained gloves. The man was smiling pleasantly, not a damn coat tail out of place. "Now that you're wholly focused on me—"

"Don't you have other duties to attend to?" Harry inquired bitingly. "Perhaps… reading your master a bedtime story?" Sebastian only kept his face pleasant to Harry's taunting, yet even the younger wizard could see the slit pupils still present in the demon's eyes.

Bored with the demon for the moment, Harry looked down at his stomach. When he had pulled the knife out, he had torn something a bit more sensitive than simply skin. With his wand still pointed in the direction of the demon, Harry moved aside his cloak, taking in the damage. He'd been tortured to death before. This wound paled in comparison to what he'd received those days in hell, but it was still severe enough to warrant bed rest for recovery. A simple healing charm would only stich it up partially.

Disgusted at this setback, Harry looked up at the demon, blinking when the clearing was empty. Quickly, he got on his toes in attempt to pivot around, but a hand curled around his elbow and snapped his entire arm around. The shoulder was cleanly dislocated and the pain made it impossible for Harry to keep hold on his wand. Just as the Elder Wand dropped to the ground, another hand curled entirely around the nape of Harry's neck.

Pain like no other took Harry's breath away. His whole body turned limp and he was only held up by Sebastian's hold on his arm and the painful pressure on the back of his neck. The demon was doing _something _to the back of his neck as he pushed his palm into his skin. It sent painful tremors down his spine and the heat was unbearable. Something wet dripped down Harry's neck and snuck underneath his cloak. He was sure it was blood, it had to be.

His head was bowed forward and he was forced to look at the ground. As soon as Sebastian released him, he would certainly collapse disgracefully on the matted grass beneath him. The only thing he kept wondering was why his rune wasn't working.

Finally, the pain ceased and Harry was dropped to the ground. He welcomed solid earth but hated how easily he was taken advantage of. With his left hand, Harry hesitantly touched the back of his neck, feeling nothing but smooth skin.

"Perhaps now you will listen. Pity it had to come down to physical harm," Sebastian murmured pleasantly from above him. "For being such a delicate and elfin creature, you have a remarkable amount of pride and arrogance."

Harry trembled in anger, slowly turning around on his back to look at the demon. Sebastian was standing over him, one foot planted dominantly on each side of Harry's body. His hands were no longer covered in white gloves, but exposed and currently holding Harry's wand. The butler's nails were black and Harry could see the mark of the Faustian Contract he shared with Ciel on his left hand. It was a simple star inscribed inside a circle. And upon the demon's right palm, another mark was etched, but Harry couldn't discern what it looked like.

"Give me my wand," Harry whispered coldly, trembling in fury.

Something seemed to excite Sebastian, for he opened his mouth in a predatory smile, his sharp teeth prominent. "Look at you, wanting to appear threatening." He then crouched over Harry, grabbing his throat and pushing him flat on his back. "Don't worry, _Harrison_, I won't tell anyone you were beaten by a demon."

"Get off me," Harry insisted, using his knee and propelling it upward.

Unfortunately, Sebastian sensed the attack and repositioned himself, kneeling pointedly on the stab wound on Harry's stomach. His fingers then tightened their hold on the wizard's throat, constricting harshly. "None of that," he scolded. "I simply wish to have a conversation with you. I truly hope we won't have to go through this each time we converse."

Harry, now grey and rigid in pain, could barely breathe with the weight and pressure on his wound. "I can't imagine what you need to ask me." His eyes flashed stubbornly up at the smirking demon. "You already know I'm a wizard. There is nothing more you need to know."

"Yes, I gathered that from your fascinating show tonight. And also the fact that you're using yourself as bait for a larger group of wizards. Though, I have to confess, I have never met a wizard before and hand't known they were so plentiful." Sebastian lifted a bit of pressure off Harry's wound and leaned closer. "You're a capable wizard whose scent says you're human, and your vulnerabilities say you're human. Yet, I still find myself doubtful."

Trying to remain conscious and able, Harry chuckled lowly. "What exactly are you trying to ask?"

Sebastian frowned. "You can't be human. You can't be mortal."

Harry stared into those crimson eyes, feeling a slight thrill underneath the pain. "Why don't you throw another cutlery knife and see for yourself? This time, aim for the chest." He wondered at the demon's strong refusal to see him as human. Did he think wizards were meant to be immortal?

The demon was now straddling Harry's chest and stomach. Long hands cradled Harry's head as he leaned in close, their noses touching. Sebastian was all but glowing as he stared down at his prey. "You're hiding something. I know it. Humans are curious beings, but _you _are very unusual." His sharp nails lightly traced Harry's forehead in a mocking caress. "I'm trying to figure you out, luckily I was able to discern quite a bit. You and I are much alike; bored, eager to play, careless to our enemies…"

"You and I are _nothing _alike," Harry growled. "I would never succumb myself so submissively to another human being and become a mere servant. _You_ are simply pathetic."

Sebastian seemed to freeze and his earlier eagerness had dimmed dramatically. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh?" Harry prodded, sensing he had hit a nerve with the demon. "You're immortal; you are desperate for anything to pass the time. But really, subjecting yourself as a servant? Trying to manipulate a child? And here I thought demons were superior creatures, it's nice to know some of them like to be dominated." With that, Harry threw his elbow in Sebastian's face, hitting the demon square in the cheekbone. He rotated his body to the side, grabbing his wand.

Before his fingers could curl around the precious wood, or before he could wandlessly summon it, a hand came out and knocked his head to the side, completely knocking him unconscious.

**Deliver Us**

"…malnourished. He needs to eat properly."

A hand prodded his mouth and spread apart his jaw. Harry, so thick with sleep, couldn't fight the alien invasion. He dimly recognized a finger lifting his lips and prodding his teeth. "For not being a noble, he does have healthy and polished teeth." The fingers left his mouth and then began prodding along his jaw and throat. "Luckily his shoulder was only dislocated, it should be an easy fix now that the burn to his bicep was treated."

Clearly a doctor. Personally, Harry had enough of doctors in his previous lives, especially the one prior to this. Lying in bed from the Dragon Pox had been a nightmare. It made him claustrophobic and their treatments didn't help any. It wasn't long before Harry had been secluded in isolation for a week before he passed away.

"And the wound to his stomach?" a voice inquired airily.

Harry's eyes flickered open for only a brief second before they proved too heavy to keep open. However small the glimpse was, he was able to discern enough of his surroundings. He was currently lying in a plush bed with ornate decorations around the room. Obviously the bloody demon had brought him to his master's home. Harry's employer for his magic shows could never afford a home doctor or lavish bed coverings. No, this was Sebastian's doing. And the boy's.

"All stitched up. He should stay in bed for a week before he does anything strenuous."

_Like hell… _

When Harry got possession of his wand, he would be able to heal the wound at least partially enough to be able to get out of this manor. He wasn't going to stay bedridden in the enemy's liar, even if those enemies happened to be a Muggle child and a collared demon.

And then those prodding hands touched his aching shoulder and Harry's eyelids didn't feel so heavy anymore. His breathing hitched and his left hand flew across the bed to catch the doctor's wrist in a light, restraining hold. "Don't touch that," Harry hissed darkly.

He glared closely at the doctor, whose grey eyes were magnified behind thick spectacles. The doctor seemed to blanch at Harry's consciousness, clearly surprised to see him up so soon and coherent enough to form a valid threat.

Above the doctor's head, Ciel Phantomhive leaned against his cane and stared wide-eyed at Harry. His gaze then narrowed and he glanced over at the other side of Harry's bed. "Sebastian," the child ordered crisply. He didn't need to say anything else, the order was clear enough.

"My pleasure," Sebastian replied sweetly.

Before Harry's sluggish mind could register, the demon held possession of his left hand, restraining him away from the doctor and more firmly against the bed. The doctor cleared his throat in unease, offering Harry an apologetic smile. "My apologies, young sir, I had thought the anesthetics would last a bit longer." One hand settled on Harry's right wrist, manipulating the arm diligently while his other hand touched Harry's shoulder. "This will only hurt for a—"

He adjusted the shoulder without prior warning and the there was an audible _clunk _as the shoulder went back in place. Harry's eyes widened and nausea flared in his stomach. He turned toward Sebastian and heaved. Before he surrendered back into unconsciousness, Harry thought it was unfair he didn't have anything in his stomach. He would have loved making a mess out of the demon's polished shoes.

**From Sorrow's Hold**

The pants were too big, as was the shirt and vest. But Harry made it work anyway as he rolled the white sleeves to his elbows and made a half-arsed knot in the ribbon-like tie around his neck. He assumed these were the butler's clothes that were laid out for him. He didn't make much of a fuss about it, simply because his cloak was in tatters and the rest of his clothes were nowhere in sight.

When he had regained consciousness not too long ago, his arm had been in a sling and the covers had been intentionally weighed down by several blankets. It was a clear indication they had wanted him to stay bedridden, but Harry simply couldn't do it. He had thrown the sling across the room and had searched for clothes presentable enough to wear in public.

The only bright side to this situation was that he had been able to sleep for more than a handful of hours. The extra slumber had done wonders to his mood. He was calmer this morning, far more level-headed. He would have to _thank _Ciel Phantomhive for his hospitality and then depart.

Looking back on his interaction with the demon last night, Harry knew his confusion and his pride had gotten in the way of practicality. If Harry had just let the demon say what he needed, then the injuries and the intense vulnerability could have been avoided all together. Harry just wasn't accustomed to being manhandled so easily. He couldn't expect less from a demon, but he _had_ expected his rune to ward off any physical contact.

He adjusted his shirt once more before exiting the room. From what little he'd seen so far, the manor really was beautiful. Over the years, Harry had grown partial toward architecture, especially age-old architecture. In his original time, the houses and buildings were never made with such care and quality. In the future, it was all about quick and cheap construction. His childhood house on Privet Drive was proof enough of that.

Harry carefully made his way down the set of wide staircases. His face was void, as he refused to reveal the true extent of the pain coursing through his body. He also made certain to move normally and not give away how much his body was killing him.

"You're awake."

Emerald green eyes narrowed in on the butler standing passively at the foot of the stairs. The demon hardly looked surprised to see Harry up and about. Instead, his practiced and polite smile was the only discernible thing on his face. Harry's anger was quick to surge, but he pushed it away and calmly continued his trek down the steps.

"I am," he replied indifferently. "Please, take me to your master." If the demon wanted to play the role of a servant, then Harry was glad to treat him as such.

With one complete pivot of his foot, Sebastian's tall frame blocked Harry from continuing off the last step of the staircase. He was all human as he looked sorrowfully up at Harry. "I have a… presentiment that you do not hold me in high regard," he stated formally.

Harry stared coolly. "Whatever would give you the impression that I would hold you in _any _sort of regard?" he asked innocently. Harry tried to step around the demon, but Sebastian moved fluidly with him. Standing on the last stair put Harry on equal level as Sebastian. Because they were eye to eye, Harry easily saw when the human persona fell prey to the sinister demon. The pupils weren't slit just yet, but there was something malevolent watching Harry.

"You couldn't possibly be angry about our confrontation last night…" The corner of Sebastian's lip inched upward. "I think of it as fair compensation for underestimating me." He reached over and patted Harry's head. "These human children…" he tsked mockingly, patting Harry similar to how Harry had patted the demon that night in his dressing room. "They always need reminders not to get too arrogant."

His control was slipping and he knew that was exactly what Sebastian was aiming for. He flicked the man's hand away from his head, barely keeping his voice neutral. "I am _no_ child."

Sebastian gave a sound similar to an interested purr. "Your body can't be older than fifteen? Sixteen?" _Seventeen, you bloody demon. _"But yes, your eyes are past your years." The demon considered Harry. "Much like my young master. A soul becomes further appealing the more the human must struggle and find his way back from the depths of hell. Your struggles, sacrifices, and choices make the overall package of your soul so much more enticing." He leaned closer. "I tasted your blood last night. I have tasted the boy's as well. Both of you are relatively close in age, and yet, _your_ beautifully damaged soul is so much more delectable."

"I'm flattered, really, but I'm at a loss of where you're going with this," Harry murmured tightly. Though he would never admit it out loud, he _did _find himself interested in how demon's gauged the delectability of a human's soul. It wasn't the amount of purity or damning. It was about the struggles and hurdles they overcame.

"Before we encountered you, I believed I had already claimed the most delectable soul alive on Britain's soil. My young master has gone through a tremendous amount for one so young." Sebastian intentionally breathed across Harry's cheek as he leaned in close. "That begs the question… what sort of hell have _you _been living?"

Harry cupped the end of the banister and leaned subtly away from the demon. He assessed the butler suspiciously. "The night of my show, in the dressing room, you said you were unable to consume my soul. Is that because of your Contract with Ciel?"

After he registered his own words, something seemed to explode in Harry's chest, something akin to a sudden burst of insight. What if Harry made a Contract with a demon? What if he made a deal that would get his soul consumed? This… this could work. He had never thought about using demons before. He'd done rituals before, but never something like _this. _

"No, I simply cannot devour it."

There was something concealed in those words, but Harry was far too distracted with this new angle to press the subject. "Is the reason you can't devour it because you _need _a Contract to consume a soul in the human world?" Harry kept his voice casual. "If I made a Faustian Contract with you, would you be able to eat my soul then?"

Sebastian took a step back in surprise. No matter how well Harry had feigned his nonchalance, Sebastian was able to see right through it. "Why would you want a Faustian Contract?" the demon inquired silkily, dangerously. "You already have power and you do not need protection. And you don't strike me as the type of human who will request riches and prominence."

Harry gave a light shrug, mindful of his sore shoulder. "I think that would be a matter between myself and the demon. If you can't do it, than I can summon another—"

The chain around his neck was suddenly grabbed and yanked by Sebastian. Harry was forced to get on his tiptoes as his neck was manipulated by the demon. Sebastian seemed to grow taller and the bright manor suddenly seemed to be cast in deep and unnatural shadows. A vindictive smile stretched the demon's lips, his teeth now sharp and his pupils now slit. He fisted Harry's chain close to the human's throat, making sure it was difficult for Harry to breathe.

_This _was the most demon Harry had ever seen from the butler, but it still wasn't his true form. Though, he swore he saw a shadow of black wings behind Sebastian's towering figure.

"Forgive me," Sebastian started, his tone lukewarm. "I should have said it was _impossible _to eat your soul."

Harry frowned, allowing himself to be manhandled. He wouldn't get all panicky and fight back, simply because that would encourage Sebastian to cause further damage. And right now, Harry wasn't in the best condition to engage in a physical fight with a demon. Still, he was extremely suspicious of the demon's actions. Sebastian seemed like a demon who was capable enough of keeping his mask and persona firmly in check. What could have possibly angered the butler to lose control like this?

"You mean… is it like a block?" Harry inquired, suddenly realizing that Death may have made it impossible even for demons to consume his soul. Harry was cursed. It would make sense that things, even demons, wouldn't kill him.

But still…

He watched as Sebastian seemed bewildered at Harry's question, but then he used it as further explanation. "Yes, like a block." He released Harry's chain and his appearance turned back to the handsome and harmless butler. "You will _not_— you don't need to summon another demon. I'm afraid there is an unnatural _block _on your soul. The others will not bargain with you if they cannot consume your soul. I wouldn't suggest trying." He smiled pleasantly, patting down Harry's ruffled appearance.

"What are you hiding?" Harry inquired suspiciously. He didn't know if he should believe Sebastian that there was a block on his soul. But what reason was there that Sebastian would lie about something like that? It was entirely curious and Harry would need to sit down and replay this conversation.

"I could ask you the same thing, _Harrison_," Sebastian replied, his fingers lingering across the rune on Harry's chain. His fake pleasantries seemed to turn into true humor as he fiddled with Harry's Celtic rune. "To demons, this amuses us. Humans look incredibly foolish when they dabble in things that they have no knowledge, no business in." Sebastian smirked at Harry's pinched expression. "I assume it's much like wizards. It probably amuses and bothers you when regular humans try to dabble in magic."

"Good logic," Harry praised, smirking despite himself.

Sebastian stroked the metal rune in contemplation. "If you truly want to construct a real seal to ward off physical assaults from demons, I will be more than happy to assist you." Thick eyelashes looked up, unveiling deep crimson eyes that traced Harry's face predatorily. "We wouldn't want any other demons getting too close to you, now would we?"

"And how can I trust you not to create something that is entirely in your favor?" Harry declined, slapping the demon's hands away and stepping off the staircase. "As much as I enjoy our conversation, I have to speak to the earl before I leave." He tilted his head to the side, watching distrustfully as Sebastian smiled agreeably, giving a short bow.

"Right this way."

The mocking bow and the guiding hand were so similar to the stance back in his dressing room. Harry was tempted to pat the demon on the head again but thought better of it. Instead, he turned his heel and began walking in the general direction of the dining hall. There was a constant nagging in the back of his head, indicating that he was forgetting something or that he wasn't _seeing _something that was right in front of him.

He kept his posture stiff, aware of the butler's ever-observant attention on him. The sooner he got out of this manor, the sooner he could lose the sensation of hair rising on his neck.

Harry stopped suddenly as he remembered the events from last night. Clearly. His eyes became lidded as he focused on the slight humming of the Elder Wand coming from Sebastian. With calm but quick reflexes, he wandlessly summoned his wand from Sebastian's pocket and aimed it directly between the demon's eyes.

"What the hell did you put on my neck?"

A narcissistic smile crossed the demon's lips. "Oh, is that all? I just simply marked you." He then continued forward, ignoring the wand pointed at his back. "Please, we don't want to keep the young master waiting. He is eager to see you." With measured and graceful steps, the demon continued down the hall, clearly not finding Harry a threat.

Meanwhile, Harry was breathing deeply, trying to keep his earlier calm from shattering. He watched the demon, knowing that the butler was trying to appear indifferent to Harry at his back, but failing. Despite his lazy composure, Sebastian was most likely keeping his full attention on Harry, as he expected a sudden and obvious attack from behind.

Harry refused to give him that. Instead, he took a leaf out of Fred and George Weasley's book and cast a subtle, nonverbal charm in the demon's direction.

A sly smile tugged his lips at the sight.

* * *

Timeline for Harry:  
**2030**: Original time—Harry kills himself at the age of fifty.  
So far, he traveled to eight timelines (Hallows weren't created until 13th century, however, Harry _has _traveled earlier than that era):

**1640**: Start of Harry's string of suicides. _Suicide 1 (or could be considered the second)—a year after 'waking'_  
**1705**: _Suicide 2—an hour after 'waking'_  
**1910**: _Suicide 3—Twenty minutes after 'waking'_

**700**: Isolation years: Spent forty-five years as a recluse. After becoming bored, he struggles with the Dark Lord in this era and gets tortured to death five years later  
**1440**: Slaughters the Dark Lord & company within a few weeks, gets killed by a Dark wizard twenty years later  
**1101**: Kills Dark Lord & company after a ten-year war, dies of starvation/malnutrition months later  
**1380**: Kills Dark Lord & company within five months, dies nineteen years later by Dragon Pox

**Present: 1889**


	3. Chapter Three

_Are you going to include the cast in kuroshitsuji S2?_  
**Answer**: Remember, I have only read the Manga. I have not watched the Anime. I have my ears closed and eyes shut to everything about Anime Kuroshitsuji (both season 1 & 2).

**3. Chapter Three**

Fuchsia really did fit Sebastian well.

Harry smirked sinisterly and lowered his wand, appraising his work. The demon's front fringe was still black, insuring Sebastian's ignorance of the change, but the back of his head was now a bright fuchsia. Fuchsia was the color of clumsiness and unexpected bouts of giggles. If Harry had cursed him with blue, the demon would have periods of miserable depression and moody transitions. Red was the color of anger outbursts and temper tantrums.

There really was a wide-range of colors Harry could have cursed the demon with, all thanks to the late George Weasley.

"What do you mean, 'mark me'?" Harry demanded coolly. It could mean all sorts of things; control, monitoring… anything really.

The demon never looked back. Instead, he pressed his palm against a heavy-set door and pushed it open. He gave another mocking bow, motioning Harry inside with a white-gloved hand.

"Please, the young master wishes to dine with you. I took the liberty of preparing a light breakfast. Your stomach needs to settle before ingesting rich foods." One of the squinted crimson eyes peeked open to admire a motionless Harry. "Doctor's orders."

And then the demon giggled.

Sebastian blinked, quickly pressing his lips together, stunned at his actions. It took Harry a few seconds to reign in both his temper and amusement. He breathed deeply through his nose and stiffly walked into the extravagant dining hall, a glaring demon at his back. Immediately, Harry spied the boy sitting at the head of the table, a perpetual frown on his cherub face as he cut his breakfast. His uncovered eye looked up at Harry briefly before looking back down.

"I hope you don't mind if I started without you." Ciel chewed slowly on his food, his eye shut in relaxation. "You were taking a suspiciously long time." Here, the boy opened his eye and shot Sebastian a suspicious look. To make matters worse, the demon stumbled on the toe of his shoe, bumping into Harry on the way inside.

The wizard hissed underneath his breath as his newly healed shoulder was pressed. Green and crimson eyes dueled.

Harry frowned and turned away. "It's not a problem, kid. The sooner we start breakfast, the sooner we can say goodbye." Ignoring the annoyed stare coming from both demon and child, Harry settled down on one of the chairs of the dining table. He tucked in, noticing the butler had grabbed a bowl of soup from the serving cart.

He tensed, knowing what was going to happen and reluctantly accepting that it was _his _fault it had to happen.

Sebastian, cursed with his mood of fuchsia, lurched forward, tripping on nothing in particular. Eyes half-lidded in bitter acceptance, Harry stared straight ahead of him as the soup spilled on the tablecloth and down on his lap. The demon looked mortified, but then a sly giggle passed his lips uncontrollably.

"What… did you do to me?" the demon accused sharply through clenched teeth. He reached over and curled a hand around the collar of Harry's shirt.

Unfazed, Harry looked coolly up at the demon. "I'm the one covered in soup. I should be the one asking _you _what you did to _me._" It was pleasing to see this demon's pride so deflated and bruised. It was most certainly worth the warm soup staining his trousers. "It's interesting that you try to pass the blame on to someone else for your own mistakes," Harry tsked mockingly. "What kind of proper butler accuses his guests?"

"Sebastian," Ciel addressed darkly. "Fetch Harrison another bowl of soup and recover yourself properly." He grimaced unhappily at Sebastian, silently ordering the demon to release Harry. The boy still hadn't spotted the pink hair, as he had yet to see the back of the demon's head.

"Yes, young master."

Harry huffed, straightening his clothes and casting a nonverbal drying charm on his pants. Through narrowed eyes, he watched the demon carefully walk from the room, revealing the spotted pink hair.

Ciel blinked at the sight before turning to Harry in question. Once Sebastian was out of the dining hall, a smirk lifted the boy's lips. "Your doing?" he wondered correctly. "I approve." The smirk then dimmed in thoughtful consideration. "It _is_ reversible, correct?"

Placing an elbow on the table in poor etiquette, Harry watched the child, pondering. "All magic is reversible," Harry informed, his mirth slipping back into what he was more comfortable with, jadedness. This child before him was just a boy. And yet, the darkness in his uncovered eye hinted that not everything was as it seemed. Those eyes were once Harry's own when he had been far too wise for his years, but still so young. Now his eyes were simply dead with the occasional spark of wicked insanity.

"All magic is reversible?" Ciel repeated, interested. "Even if you kill someone with magic, it is reversible?"

Harry tapped his fingernails on the table, feeling the comfortable weight of the Resurrection Stone on his finger. "I should correct myself. _Most _magic is reversible. There are countless of things that are arguable. Death is nonnegotiable." _At least for some people, no, for most people. _"I'm guessing your butler told you about last night's events?"

If he was really an upheld citizen of the Ministry, he would've _obliviated _both Sebastian and Ciel for their knowledge of wizards and magic. Only, he couldn't have cared a less. He was only here to sate his boredom.

Before Ciel could answer, Sebastian waltzed inside, most likely using his demon speed and abilities to arrive so quickly. His expression was craftily void of any emotion, though Harry could spot the tensed jawline. He smirked.

"He did tell me of the transpiring events, yes," Ciel replied casually, watching Sebastian closely as the demon set down the saucer of soup. "You may be dismissed, Sebastian. I would like to speak to Harrison alone."

_Just like a dog… _Harry's eyes followed the demon's stiff back, offering a dark smile as crimson eyes met his before the doors closed tightly.

"You don't take me seriously," Ciel suddenly accused, bringing Harry's attention back on to him. "You think of me as a simple child."

Harry offered the boy a searching stare before he picked up one of the spoons off the table. He swirled the dark red soup around, vaguely wondering if it was simple tomato paste. "That is because you _are _a child," Harry said softly, sipping at the soup. He refrained from gawking, but the broth was simply _remarkable_. He cleared his throat to clear away his awe, glancing back at the child. The boy had abandoned his breakfast in favoring of watching Harry. "But that doesn't mean I don't take you seriously."

"You don't make any sense—"

"Not taking people seriously would be underestimating," Harry continued calmly, interrupting the child. "I never underestimate anyone. Your butler, for instance, reminds me of a simple dog and I don't _like _him. But between you and I, demons scare the bloody shit out of me. They're hard buggers to kill, let alone injure." And he never did underestimate his enemies, his allies, strangers… he may tease and mock and play with people, but he always had his guard up. "And because _you _have the power to order that creature around, naturally I have to keep my guard up around you as well."

Ciel mimicked Harry and placed his head on his open palm, watching him continue eat. "You seem to be bitter, but you can't be older than fifteen. How can I be a child in your eyes if you are one just as well?"

"Fifteen?" Harry whispered to himself. He was bloody _seventeen _in physical form and over one hundred and fifty-years-old mentally. "You already know so much about me," he murmured airily, sipping at the soup. The warm liquid wasn't heavy, but it did settle the endless void in his stomach. "I think we are on more than good enough terms right now. I just wanted to thank you for stitching me up last night and providing me a bed and breakfast."

Ciel frowned. "You're leaving?"

Green eyes surveyed the young earl passively. "Of course I'm leaving. I don't know what your demon's purpose was last night, but _I _succeeded in _my_ task."

The boy shifted. He watched Harry sharply, frowning and pondering. "Stay here." He continued before Harry could swallow properly. "I didn't take you seriously when we first met. I did not want to believe that there was actually such a thing as real _witches._"

"Wizards."

Ciel glowered at the interruption. "Wizards," he corrected himself. "I was instructed by the Queen to stop the killings of the noblemen. I have yet to fail a mission and I don't plan on failing anytime soon. Because wizards are committing these murders, I realize that I may not be able to succeed, even with Sebastian at my side. It's a whole other world out there that neither Sebastian _nor _I are knowledgeable on. We don't know how many we're dealing with and we don't know _why _these noblemen are being targeted."

Harry remained silent, finishing off his soup and watching the small earl from the corner of his eye. At least the child could admit when he was confronted with a roadblock and needed assistance. It was a trait Harry had never excelled at, asking for help, that is.

"I need your help. But I think you may need my help as well. I have powerful connections and I am also influential in the social circles. Noblemen are being targeted. As an earl, I have the influence you may need to infiltrate yourself into the investigation. I can provide you with clothes, food, shelter, and also social ranking." Ciel stroked the sapphire ring on his thumb and waited for Harry to take the bait.

"And in return?" Harry wondered lightly, grinning to himself. "You want me to solve this case for you."

"Not _for _me, but _with _me," Ciel corrected. "I would also like to know more about your world, the politics, the customs, the traditions, everything. Only for my simple curiosity, of course," the boy added after Harry sent an amused expression his way.

Placing down his spoon in the empty saucer, Harry leaned back, turning his full attention on the boy. It was strange. Harry was trying to take down the Dark Lord out of boredom and a sense of adventure. Ciel, on the other hand, felt it was his _duty _to pacify the Queen and save Britain. Merlin, that _did _sounded familiar. Like Ciel, Harry had once been responsible with saving the Wizarding world while pacifying and obeying his own Queen. Dumbledore.

Reluctantly, he felt a sliver of pity for this child, but also exasperation. Ciel was being played as a mere puppet by both Sebastian and the Queen. Judging from the boy's cunning air, he was probably subconsciously aware of this, but felt he needed to continue on the path he had made for himself. After all, an earl got his power from the Queen. Without the Queen's favor, the child would lose everything.

"The Wizarding world has a silence pact. Muggles, or, non-magic folk like _you_, should remain oblivious to our world." Harry tapped his fingers on his armrest, smirking. "But that rule is only for stiff wads. I suppose I can sate some of your curiosity about the Wizarding world. So long as you keep it to yourself and your… _butler_." The wizard then tilted his head marginally. "Why don't you tell me about your Faustian Contract with your demon? Why did you summon him? What is he granting you in return for your soul?"

Ciel stiffened and his one eye widened. "You… are aware of the Faustian Contract?"

Harry waved a dismissive hand. "Of course I am. I know that demons usually aren't inclined to play the role of a butler if they don't get anything in return." Harry raised an eyebrow as the child crossed his legs and tried to contort a cunning and sly expression. _Sorry child, I've lived far too long to be fooled by Slytherins and their cunningness. I have my fair share of Slytherin as well. _

"I don't see any reason why you need to know that…"

"Only for my simple curiosity, of course," Harry drawled, smirking as he used the boy's earlier words back at him when Ciel had asked about the Wizarding world. He tapped his ring finger, the very same finger that held the Resurrection Stone. The metal band made a light _clicking _sound against the sturdy wood armrest.

Ciel blinked before a true and humorous grin stretched across his face. "You're good."

Apparently, it looked as if Harry received some extra points in the child's eyes. The huge blue eye stared at him, trying to absorb everything he could. Harry stared back, impassive, but bitterly amused. He saw so much potential in this child. Pity the boy was more than ok with selling his soul to the devil and giving away his loyalty to a conniving Queen.

"When my predecessors were killed, I was kidnapped and held as a slave in front of a viewing audience, and a sacrifice for a cult ritual. They humiliated me. They _marked _me." Fire lit the boy's eye. "They… were _monsters_ who decided to summon a demon. Sebastian ended up making a Contract with me instead of the group that did the ritual."

Harry wasn't necessarily good at Legilimency, far better than he was in his original lifetime, especially with Muggles, but he still paled in comparison to Snape.

No matter his ability, he tried digging inside the boy's mind and _see _evidence behind the earl's words. It wasn't too hard. Memories sprang forward and past the child's wide-open and vulnerable mind. For Harry to be able to pick up the memories this easily, they must have been very potent and traumatic memories.

He saw the memories and he viewed them without remorse. He saw Ciel, in a cage, being jeered at by a group of masked men just days, hours after his parents' death. There was no sexual abuse, but there might have been with how humiliated Ciel felt as he huddled in his cage. To have the Phantomhive heir in their possession was a highly entertaining event for these faceless spectators.

And then _he _was summoned, Sebastian. Harry stared into Ciel's blue eye, seeing nothing but darkness and black feathers in the memory. High-heeled boots clicked against the ground as the demon approached the caged and desperate Ciel. Lips opened to reveal sinister fangs and a predator-like smile. Harry tried desperately to hear and see the interaction between human and demon, but Ciel's memories flickered choppily. The demon then reached inside and pressed a clawed hand against the boy's right eye.

_Pain_. It was all Harry was aware of as it flickered across Ciel's mind. And then the memory-Ciel opened his eyes wide, revealing the glowing Faustian Contract mark in his right eyeball.

The process was incredibly similar to what happened with Harry last night. The back of his neck itched as he thought on it, musing and refusing to believe that the demon had branded him with a Faustian Contract. It was impossible. Harry hadn't agreed to any deal. Before being marked by a demon, the human must first accept the terms of the contract. No, the mark on the back of his neck had to be something else.

"I wanted power," Ciel expressed, bringing Harry's attention back on him. That eye-patch didn't seem so handicapped anymore. Behind it laid evidence of a Faustian Contract with a superior demon. "I needed power to take revenge on those who humiliated me; I _needed _his power to kill those who betrayed me and the Phantomhive name." Ciel breathed deeply, stubbornness in his eye and face. "I also made him agree to three things in return for my soul. He would never lie to me. He would follow my orders unconditionally. And he would always protect me and never betray me until I extracted my revenge."

It was a complex Contract. And Harry could reluctantly see why Sebastian chose to accept this role. Demons were immortal. Sebastian had been bored and he saw Ciel as entertainment to pass the time and a good meal at the end of his accomplishments. Still, the demon was a bloody dog.

Harry contemplated Ciel, looking deeper into the boy's mind, digging lightly. There were images he had to pause and blink at. Sebastian had taken his butler duties seriously. It was almost surprising at how gentle he was with Ciel, how attentive he was to the boy. And yet, there was always sinister mocking behind those red eyes.

Sebastian and Ciel had a complex relationship and one Harry didn't feel the need to delve further into. It wasn't his place. "It doesn't even dawn on you that your soul will be eaten? That you have willingly signed your life away to the devil?" Harry pondered quietly, picking up a knife and twirling it between his fingers. He was beginning to grow bored.

"I didn't have very many options at the time," Ciel replied firmly, confidently. "I don't regret it. I want to find the people who did this to me."

"Not to your parents?" Harry inquired slyly, remembering how the child had labeled his parents as his 'predecessors'. "You haven't even mentioned extracting revenge for your _predecessors'_ death."

Ciel seemed to rouse and feign disinterest. "They are dead. Revenge is but a silly word when it won't _bring _them back from the grave." He said it with such conviction, such coolness. It would make anyone believe he was only telling the honest truth.

But to Harry, he could see the naked grief. The boy couldn't have lost his parents too long ago, meaning Ciel had an entire childhood with his mother and father and Harry knew it was a happy childhood. What other reason would Ciel pick up where his father left off? Surely he was bred for this position as the Queen's hand, but he could have used Sebastian to get _away _from this lifestyle and live somewhere else. There was a subconscious desire to make his parents proud, Harry could see it.

"You know," Harry drawled, setting down the twirling knife and leaning forward. "I'm not a power-hungry demon. I don't find it pleasurable when you slip and show me your vulnerability like _he _probably does. If you miss your parents, then you miss your parents."

Ciel was ready for the counter, indignant that someone would point this out. "Why would I show you my true feelings when you already underestimate me? I am _not _a child."

Harry leaned his head against the back of the chair and stared up at the chandelier. Hadn't he already told the boy he did not underestimate him? Should he… _pacify _the boy? Humor him? Tell the truth? "No, you aren't a child in anything but years. You have struggled over many hurdles in your short life and emerged with a stronger and resilient soul." Green eyes then dropped to stare at the earl from the corner of his eye. "You enjoy this lifestyle? Being the Queen's personal guard? Or is it really just for the power and the chance to extract your own brand of revenge?"

The boy gave a nonchalant shrug. "Can't I have both?"

A small grin tugged at the corner of Harry's lips. He could see the young earl enjoyed being the Queen's watchdog. And he spied the enjoyment coming from Ciel over Sebastian's cunning and psychological games. The boy would have been a good Slytherin. It seemed as if Ciel _enjoyed _having Sebastian at his command, after all, it gave him the opportunity to strike his enemies down quickly.

And yet, Harry still sensed there was something _deeper _with Ciel, something purer. Harry had nothing against the boy's insistence of revenge, in fact, he encouraged it. Harry just wondered why he was so uptight about the fact that Ciel was perfectly fine with selling his soul to a demon.

Of course, if it was _Harry _who was selling his soul, that would be an entirely different matter.

Long fingers traced his Resurrection Stone and Harry stared listlessly across the room at the far wall. He had to ask himself why he even _cared _to dig deeper through this child. But no matter how jaded he wanted to be, how much he wanted to separate himself from emotional attachments, he couldn't deny the fact that he saw himself too much in this child. How tragic to have such a smart, vibrant, and young soul be devoured by a demon just out of revenge.

Harry stood up from the chair and tugged at his borrowed clothes. He slowly walked around the table and toward Ciel. "If you ever want to extract revenge on the people that betrayed you, _without _selling your soul, you should consider me for the job." He leaned closer to the sitting earl, bringing their eyes on equal levels. "I know what it's like to shoulder such a heavy and important burden. No one can possibly understand what you're going through. But you aren't alone if you choose to reach out for a little assistance."

He then straightened, winking down at the boy. As soon as he was prepared to Disapparate, the door to the dining room opened and Sebastian could be seen leaning against the open doorway. Judging from the crossed arms and the far from amused expression, the demon probably heard everything.

But instead of criticizing Harry for trying to take away his prey, the demon simply said, "I hope you were not planning on leaving."

Ciel turned in his chair, standing up abruptly. "We agreed—"

"No," Harry interrupted before the boy could finish. "We did not agree on anything as of yet. We only set our terms." He saw the betrayal in Ciel's eye and sighed. It was his own fault for being so emotionally involved with the boy. He hadn't _planned _on forming alliances and getting to know tragic-filled youths that were his mirror image as a child.

Sebastian took an advancing step closer, patiently waiting for his master's orders.

Harry reached over and tapped the boy on the nose. Really, the boy was so _serious_. "I _will_ be back here tonight or tomorrow. I have a few things I need to take care of back in London." He took another step toward the door, but Sebastian advanced even quicker and faster. "I give you my word," Harry insisted, exasperated.

"I will come with you," Sebastian countered calmly. His crimson eyes hardly paid Ciel any attention as they focused entirely on Harry. "You used yourself as bait for the group of wizards we're hunting. You don't honestly believe your life is not in danger, do you? Was last night not of any consequence?"

"Actually it wasn't of any consequence," Harry replied evenly. "If I don't make regular appearances in London, last night will be for naught. I have attracted their attention and now I have to _keep _their attention."

Sebastian smiled pleasantly, that sort of arsehole and cunning smile all rolled into one. "Of course," the man conceded happily. "But that doesn't mean you cannot have someone with you for protection. More often than not, bait is swallowed alive. You're trying to be the bigger predator, but even a predator needs some form of defense from time to time."

"Sebastian…" Ciel started to argue.

The demon turned to Ciel, watching his future meal with patient understanding. "Young master, Harrison is our only lead into the group of wizards attacking the noblemen. Surely you would want some level of protection around him, hmm? The Queen would want your assignment to be completed productively, wouldn't she?"

"Now wait just a minute," Harry interrupted fiercely, sensing the manipulationjust _dripping_ from Sebastian. Bloody demon and his mind games. For some reason, the man wanted to be closer to Harry and he was trying to get his master to agree to it. "_I _don't need protection."

"And yet, you struggle just to stand upright," Sebastian pointed out airily, keeping his eyes on his young master.

Harry reached forward and curled his hands around the man's coat lapels. Ignoring the pain in his abdomen and shoulder, he tugged the demon closer. "Noblemen are being attacked," Harry said slowly, as if speaking to a child. "What's to say that Ciel won't be the next target on their list? From what I've observed, Phantomhive estate is rather attractive to outsiders. You need to stay here with him."

Ciel made a humming noise in his throat. "No, no, Sebastian is right," he agreed in his aristocratic drawl. Though, there was a bit of a sourness to his face about agreeing with anything Sebastian had to say. "We need your help solving this case. It's best if we have protection on you. Besides, I have three other servants here that are capable of defending me and the manor."

Giving Sebastian the stink eye, Harry turned marginally and raised an eyebrow. "Capable enough of defending you against magic?" he pressed.

The boy shrugged lightly and propped his head upon a curled fist. His posture reeked of casual boredom now that he made his mind up. "From what I've gathered, even Sebastian is not entirely immune to magic. My best bet is having _you _defend me. If Sebastian goes with you, I can summon him for help and he'll bring you along with him." He looked at Harry with his large blue eye. "It makes perfect sense."

Harry ogled blankly at the boy before turning back around to stare at Sebastian. The demon still had a pleasant smile on his face, though it had a mischievous edge to it now. Usually Harry did things alone. In his other timelines, he was used to working with a group of wizards against the Dark Lord during the final confrontation. For all the other missions and preplanning, Harry preferred going his own way.

Having Sebastian with him was an inconvenience, _especially _because the demon got on his every last nerve.

"You will stay out of my conversation with other wizards," Harry found himself instructing. He figured the mark on the back of his neck would serve as a tracking device. It was better to pretend he was the one in charge of this _partnership _rather than being upstaged by Sebastian following in the shadows. "You will listen to what I tell you. You will not get in my _way_." He paused intentionally. "Not that it should be difficult for you, seeing as you're used to being an invisible, obedient mouse on the sidelines."

Fury lightened Sebastian's eyes before it dimmed remarkably fast. The demon smiled thinly and nodded once, his gaze turning intense. "I find that the shadows are the best place to watch and observe my prey. When I strike, they don't see it coming."

"Literarily and figuratively, I'm sure," Harry responded dryly, referring to the demon's unnatural speed. Despite the unsettlement the demon's words caused him, Harry would have to agree with the man. It was always best to remain as incognito as possible. It made enemies underestimate and it made the end result so much more enjoyable.

He considered the demon, stepping to the side and peering up at the man's hair. There was no pink in his hair and the jinx Harry had casted on him was no longer present. Interesting. "Are demons immune to magic?" Harry wondered for Sebastian's ears only.

"Don't look too disenchanted." Sebastian's eyes never lost their sharp focus as they regarded Harry obsessively. "I had to step out of my human skin for a moment to shake off the curse."

Harry had only caught a quick sight of a demon's true form in one of his lifetimes, but he knew their appearances varied from demon to demon. Sebastian's slit-red eyes and fangs were part of his demon form, and thanks to Ciel's memory, he now knew Sebastian possessed black wings and long, black fingernails. It was only curiosity on Harry's behalf to know Sebastian's true form. Demons weren't beautiful creatures, the exact opposite really.

He scowled when he noticed the faint smirk across Sebastian's face, as if the demon knew he took up precedence in Harry's mind.

With resignation, Harry reached out and curled a hand around the demon's forearm. "Hold on to me." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he gritted his teeth in exasperation. Merlin, he was an idiot. His only saving grace was that his tone had been harsh, unapproachable.

However, Sebastian didn't seem to mind the tone, for he stepped even closer, mocking Harry. He curled a hand around Harry's waist, easily and eagerly invading his personal space.

_Merlin, kill me_, Harry thought icily, side-Apparating with Sebastian to their destination.

**Deliver Us**

Harry slumped in his uncomfortable chair at his small, bare vanity. He had conjured up a thick, hooded cloak as soon as he arrived in his dressing room, a simple garment that gave him comfort and security. His other one had been ruined after his run in with the Dark Lord's followers and Sebastian's flying cutlery knives.

After arriving, Harry had met with the owner of the small motel where he both resided and performed his magic shows. He had reassured his boss that he would do another show tonight. The man had appeared ecstatic when he saw Harry, unnerved with the absence of his top performer. Harry hadn't needed to be persuaded for very long. He needed more money and he needed to keep his name and face in London.

The Dark Lord needed to be drawn from his little hole. Simple followers were not stimulating Harry enough.

He threw his feet upon the rickety vanity, contemplating the broken mirror he had dropped on the ground not too long ago. His dressing room was located in the basement of the motel and it was usually left alone, even from maids. So it wasn't a surprise to find that his living quarters had been untouched when he arrived here with Sebastian earlier today. The broken mirror was still on the ground, the cabinets near the kitchenette were still empty and barren, and the quilt on his bed was still stiffly tucked in, a sign of his unwillingness to sleep and succumb to his endless nightmares.

And most importantly, or irritatingly enough, the Invisibility Cloak was still folded up in the nightstand beside his bed. It tended to follow him wherever he deemed his 'home', almost like that of a lost puppy.

Everything had been left in its place since he'd left, and yet, he still felt as if _someone _had been inside, snooping. It was an unsettled feeling to know his home, despite its lack of personality, had been invaded upon. And even worse, he was disappointed he had missed his visitor.

Suddenly, a cardboard box was thrown on the vanity next to Harry's feet. His pulse spiked frantically from his chest, but he kept his features blank and unimpressed. Jaded, green eyes looked up at Sebastian, the demon literally coming out from _nowhere_. The man had disappeared not too long ago, which had been agreeable to Harry, but apparently Sebastian hadn't planned on staying away.

"What?" Harry demanded sharply, lifting a single eyebrow when the demon continued standing in front of him. At the man's gesture toward the box, Harry shrugged lightly but made no effort to decline from his position. "What is it?"

"You have the necessary senses to look and see for yourself," Sebastian informed silkily.

Harry stared at the demon's unmoving figure before sighing and dropping his feet from the vanity. He grabbed the box and opened the flimsy flaps at the top. It took him a moment to recognize the small cup of soup and the buttery croissant as _food_, edible food.

Numbness swept through him as he stared down at the soup. How long had it been since someone actually _cared _enough to make sure he ate? Painfully, Harry pushed away the box and stabbed a finger in Sebastian's chest.

"We're working toward a common goal, demon. I do not need your charity or your mocking consideration." He withdrew his hand sharply and made a move to push past Sebastian.

Only, a hand grabbed his wrist and tugged him back. Burgundy eyes flared and a single, gloved fingertip traced his protruding cheekbone. "You are malnourished. It's evident you cannot take care of yourself, so the task falls on the only capable one here." He dropped Harry's wrist but kept his close proximity. "Young master has agreed to provide you with necessary clothing, food, and shelter. If you don't want to accept it from me, accept it from him. He needs you in top shape for this _common cause_."

"You act as if I want to be in his good graces," Harry accused lowly. "I don't care for the boy; I couldn't care a less what he _needs_ of me."

The knock at the door interrupted Sebastian before he could retort. Harry tugged his cloak closer and approached the door toward his expected visitor. "Stay out of this," he ordered the demon callously, still uncomfortable with someone needing to remind him to eat.

He opened the door and stepped aside to let the two hooded figures inside.

"Good evening, Mr. Harrison," one of the men greeted. Once inside, the men dropped their hoods, revealing the faces of Minister Brown and one his top Aurors, Thomas Fink. "I hope to find you well…"

Harry shut the door behind him and waved his wand casually across the room. A shimmering, faint privacy ward dropped to the ground like a blanket, spreading across the floors and up the walls. "I apologize for the late contact, Minister, but I finally had a breakthrough on our wizard."

Minister Brown had no relation to Lavender Brown, or so he thought. Minister Brown had darker skin and eerie light brown eyes. He wasn't a werewolf, that much Harry was for certain, he just had exotic-like genes that many would take quick notice of and admire. Auror Fink, on the other hand, was as normal and any Joe on the street. He had floppy blond hair and dark blue eyes, looking more like the grandfather of Lavender Brown than the Minister did.

"And who is _he_?" Auror Fink demanded toward Sebastian, the man's stance defensive with his wand at the ready.

Harry chuckled lightly, amused. He disliked Aurors. He disliked many people but bigheaded Aurors were on the top of his list. This man sensed the threat coming from Sebastian, who was currently standing across the room, but he still thought he would point his wand at the demon and make a show of being the bigger man.

The man would fail miserably if he had to defend the Minister against Sebastian.

"That is an ally of mine, Mr. Fink," Harry informed shortly. "Please don't point your wand at him. He'll consider it as a threat."

Minister Brown eyed an emotionless Sebastian who took position near the vanity. "A Muggle, Harrison? Are you sure it wise to—"

"He's a demon," Harry interrupted bluntly, ignoring the two men as they tensed and paled. It was best to get this out of the way first. The Minster would find out about Sebastian either way. "Our past history is none of your concern. All you need to know is that he will be assisting me with the Dark Lord. Unfortunately, because the Dark Lord has invaded the Muggle world, it is understandable that I gather allies there and use it to my advantage."

The Minister took residency near the single couch but refused to sit. "You told me you work alone. I was reassured I could count on your clandestineness."

Insulted, Harry only smiled. "I assure you, Minister, I will not be held back. Unless, of course, you know someone who possesses even more clandestineness than a demon?" He hated giving backhanded compliments to Sebastian, but he needed to smooth Minister Brown's rumpled feathers. "Back to the matter at hand…"

That ensnared the Minister's attention back on to him and away from Sebastian. "Ah, yes, you indicated a breakthrough on the investigation." Next to the Minister, the Auror scoffed, turning his mocking eyes on Harry. After all, how could a mere teenage boy get more breakthroughs on a case when a group of grown Aurors couldn't?

This antagonistic and doubtful behavior was another reason Harry requested Minister Brown to keep his involvement a secret. Not only so he could infiltrate the Dark Lord's ranks easier by being solo and unattached to the Minister of Magic, but also because his physical appearance would be laughable to many of the Aurors. It was an unnecessary headache he preferred to avoid.

"Investigation," Harry repeated in wary amusement. "You mean assassination, Minister?" He leaned against the wall of his dressing room, assessing the two Ministry workers.

In many ways, Minister Brown reminded him of a serious Fudge. Fudge was a coward with nervous laughs and an attempted humor. Minister Brown tried not to appear like a coward, practicing hard expressions and harboring a refined air. But in the end, Minister Brown was inexperienced when it came to wars.

And Harry had every right to judge, considering he was older than this man was, and far more experienced.

"I would like to get my hands on the Dark Lord—"

"And… do what?" Harry interrupted impatiently. "To have tea with him? To sit down with him and ask him why he killed so many Muggles? You will find yourself disappointed that he refuses to open up to you, or you'll get a man who talks your ear off. You'll hear about his many past woes that countless of men have already endured themselves. You'll hear his twisted views of humanity. And in the end, you'll still question _why _he killed so many people." He leaned further against the wall and smirked. "Dark Lords have an irrational thought process, leaving you feeling empty and unsettled. Trust me, Minister Brown; he's better off dead than alive."

"Why…" Auror Fink trailed off, scowling at Harry. "How do we know you aren't the Dark Lord? You sound especially knowledgeable in the area."

_Oh… how he thought of that…_

"Auror Fink," Minister Brown reprimanded. "I have sat down with Harrison countless of times. I firmly believe he is on our side."

"He's a _boy_."

Harry bowed his head and an insane giggle escaped his lips. "Am I? I really had no idea…" he murmured warily.

The two began whispering to one another, Fink furious and Brown condescending and calm. The Aurors were so quick to anger. It was too irresistible. They held a position of power without needing a shred of morality to achieve that, and because of their positions, they believed they were above everyone else. No one could compare to them because of their high prestige.

"I apologize immensely for Auror Fink, Mr. Harrison," Minister Brown expressed sincerely. "I would very much like to hear your account of the Dark Lord. We haven't been having any luck on our half. There haven't been many attacks in the Wizarding world and I haven't heard of any attacks in the Muggle world either."

"He does seem to have hit a slump," Harry conceded, suddenly becoming serious. "Either that or he's planning another attack." He pushed off from the wall and gracefully moved closer to the two wizards. From the corner of his eye, he was aware of Sebastian remaining a silent and watchful spectator. "I encountered a few of his followers last night."

Minister Brown's expression cleared to one of amazement. "You were right then. He is paying close attention to the Muggle world. You lured them to you quite well," he praised. "Were you able to get any information from them?"

Harry pondered this grimly, coming to an abrupt halt a few feet away from them. "Your Unspeakables were not called to the scene? There were two bodies in the East End of London and I'm sure a few Muggles could have needed an _obliviate._"

"An attack was reported, Harrison. But we never discovered any bodies."

Usually, when there was a flurry of magical activity in the Muggle world, the Aurors were alerted and the Unspeakables were sent to _obliviate _and inspect the scene.

Harry turned to look at Sebastian. "There _were _two bodies in East End when we left, wasn't there?" He was not imagining things. Sometimes, after being in so many timelines, Harry had an unnerving thought that he was insane and residing in a dream-like nightmare.

Sebastian inclined his head elegantly. "A man and a woman."

Harry turned back to the two men. "Unusual, but not unheard of. Their bodies may have been picked up by members of their group." He contemplated. "You might consider taking note on two deaths, or two missing people, Minister. If we can pinpoint the two deceased followers' identities, we're a step further than we were at figuring out who our Dark Lord is." Distractedly, he was aware of the Minister nodding. "While the Dark Lord didn't approach me directly, he did send a few members of his army. One of them looked remarkably like a Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" Auror Fink exclaimed. His eyes then narrowed. "He's a respected—"

"Politician, I'm sure," Harry mumbled lightly. This era really didn't have a lick of experience when it came to war and turncoats. How… unsettling. He was working with idiots.

"Mr. Malfoy has always been rumored to be dabbling in Dark Arts," Minister Brown whispered, as if it were an outrageous and shocking revelation. "I will be keeping a close eye on him. As of now, we don't have much evidence to convict him or question him."

Being in the year 1888 was not only a downfall itself, though a welcoming change to his earlier eras, but it reminded him of the passionate discrimination against Dark Arts. Even when he left his original timeline, Dark Arts were still frowned upon, though the people had begun to grow more lenient.

Harry used Dark Arts and he was smart enough to pretend as if he didn't in front of Minister Brown.

"Thank you for your assistance, Harrison. If you need anything or have anything else to share, don't be afraid to contact me." Minister Brown patted Harry on the shoulder and raised his hood. With his features covered, he motioned toward the Auror at his back. "Come, Mr. Fink, we must get back to the Ministry."

Harry canceled the privacy charm, watching as the Minister opened the door and escaped the dressing room. Suddenly, a body was in his personal space. He turned, appearing unimpressed as Auror Fink held out his wand, a gesture of challenge.

"I don't trust you or your intentions," Fink informed stiffly. "How can you possibly be of any use when you're so young? And to accuse an outstanding citizen of deceit… it sounds a bit farfetched to me."

"What is your point?" Harry encouraged, bored and eager to get this over with.

"I challenge you to a wizard's duel," the man declared firmly. "Let me see if you have a shred of skill to back up your ridiculous claims."

Harry appeared to think it over for a moment, even going as far as to appear as if he'd accept. In the end, he just tsked in disappointment. "I'm afraid I have more important things to tend to, such as entertaining Muggles with a few parlor tricks." He winked at the Auror and turned his shoulder on him, ready to cast a defensive shield in case he sensed an attack.

Though, before he could even catch a whiff of an impending attack, a scuffle sounded behind him and a pained gasp accompanied it. Harry whirled around, surprised to see Sebastian grabbing Fink fiercely around the man's right wrist, the Auror's wand lying uselessly on the ground. The demon was positively frightening, looking like a cat that held a mouse between unsheathed claws. Fink seemed to think so as well, for his face was white with terror as he looked up at the looming demon.

"Only a coward attacks an unprotected back," Sebastian purred. His fingers tightened and a sharp _snap _could be heard as he broke the Auror's wrist.

"Sebastian," Harry called tiredly through Fink's growl of agony. "Let him go."

After Sebastian nudged the Auror away, Harry sat on the couch, rubbing the bridge of his nose. As the door slammed shut to his dressing rooms, Harry embraced the dead silence. Years and years of interacting with people were beginning to take its toll on Harry. He was just so _tired_. No one surprised him anymore, no one's pettiness, no one's ugliness failed to shock him. It took battling with a powerful Dark Lord to get a proper rise out of him. No one else—

His chin was taken by a pair of greedy fingers and he was forced to look up at Sebastian.

"Why do you let them walk over you?"

"I don't let them walk over me, I just learn to pick my battles," Harry responded, perfectly void of emotion.

He knocked the demon's hand away from his face, realizing that not _everyone _failed to get a rise out of him. This demon was an exception. Even after just a handful of encounters, Harry found himself _feeling _more in this man's presence than he had in anyone else's in a long time. Predominantly anger and irritation, but they were still emotions, things that made him feel as if he wasn't as dead as he felt.

"You seem to pick your battles with me," Sebastian countered exceptionally smoothly, his expression clearly smug, pleased. "I am honored you find me worthy enough."

Harry stood up, a persistent frown in place. "We have a show to do." He caressed his wand in his pocket and made his way toward the door. Before he could leave, the demon surprised him again with an unconditional question.

"You're clearly more competent than them. Why do you choose to work with them? And above all else, why do you feel as if you have to hunt after this Dark Lord?"

Harry turned, eyeing the demon across the room. "I don't necessarily work with them nor do I rely on them and their permission. I just prefer hunting after the Dark Lord by myself without the Aurors looking at me with suspicion. At least this way, they let me do my thing without interfering. Their lack of intelligence is just an unfortunate circumstance to the situation." He faced the door again, opening it with resignation.

"You haven't answered my second question," Sebastian said knowingly. "Why are you even hunting after this Dark Lord?"

The immortal wizard paused and pressed his forehead ahead the open door. A deep sadness and emptiness rushed through him. "Boredom," he found himself responding truthfully. He turned to look at the surprised eyes of the demon. "Because I'm bored. I imagine it's much like your reason to play the part of a subservient butler." Realizing he was acting out of turn, Harry straightened and scowled at the demon. "Though, I hardly think I would ever stoop as low as you have."

Without another word, he escaped his dressing room.


	4. Chapter Four

**4. Chapter Four**

Harry hadn't known Sebastian for very long, but whenever he could come out on top in their little power plays, he always savored the sweet, savory taste of victory. Outwardly, Harry appeared professional, blank, almost bored, but from the corner of his eye, he was inceptive to Sebastian's movements as the other man cavorted in front of the Muggles.

_Fool_. Just because Harry had allowed him to trail after him for 'protection' didn't mean he would let the demon hide in the background. No, if Harry had to suffer and perform in front of a group of stuck-up aristocrats, he would have Sebastian be his _lovely _assistant. Not quite the visage Harry was expecting in an assistant, as the man was far too tall, thin, and masculine, but it would suffice, especially if it made the demon uncomfortable.

Yet, uncomfortable wasn't the best word to describe Sebastian's current disposition. If anything, the butler was pulling off a fabulous job. Something told Harry that Sebastian was skilled at everything he did, almost to the point of nauseating perfection. There was that elegance, that certain grace Sebastian possessed with everything he did. He made everything look so effortless.

Harry stood, simmering in annoyance as Sebastian weaved through the aristocrats' tables, possessing an air of excitement, and intrigue, the perfect guise for a magician's assistant. It took a significant amount of Harry's energy to even crack an inviting smile, let alone make his movements fluid and so _bubbly_.

He chalked it up to the fact that he'd been doing this for months whereas Sebastian was new to the prospect of engaging crowds.

"Great work, marvelous," Harry praised through gritted teeth and a cynical grin. He shifted, summoning the table from the backroom and on to the stage as soon as Sebastian climbed the steps. His gloved hands promptly set down a box full of rings, handkerchiefs, and other small items on top the table.

Sebastian had been sent to collect an item from each party. The guests had been reluctant at first, but they eventually caved in and tossed a gold coin inside the box, pieces of unimportant jewelry, or some other miscellaneous items. Harry had watched from the stage in rapt amusement, loving aristocrats more and more. As if he'd set up magic shows just to steal these people's money. He'd had other, more convenient ways to steal.

He looked down at the box and inclined his head. "I assure you, ladies and gentlemen, that you will recover your items. Though, neither I nor my assistant will be the ones to return them to you."

Tentative murmurs spread across the lobby and Harry turned, patting the box once with emphasis.

As soon as his fingers made contact with the box, the lights dimmed and the candles flared higher, brighter. The guests became suddenly still, quiet as their eyes riveted toward Harry. He held up a gloved finger and made a show of swirling it around in fancy patterns. The pattern of his hands really had nothing to do with the ability to call up his magic. He wasn't particular outstanding with both wandless and nonverbal magic at the same time, but when it came to tracking charms and summoning charms, he could make due.

"Your items will return to you on their own accord." Harry waved his hand over the box and the objects inside burst in the air like a geyser. They hovered midair for a moment, the shiny sheen on some of the objects reflecting and shimmering brightly off the candlelight.

The guests exclaimed in excitement and Harry tossed his hand to the side, gesturing toward the spectators. The objects, eager to get back to their owners, followed his command without dely. The pile of miscellaneous objects whizzed past the guests' heads and zigzagged to get to their owner. Woman squealed in delight as they clutched their handkerchiefs and men praised and murmured with approval as they caught their precious gold.

Sensing the stare, Harry turned and faced Sebastian. The demon stood motionless, his eyes disregarding the magic in favor of watching the wizard across from him. The crimson stare was smoldering and half-lidded with desire. Unquestionably, there was a dangerous, almost thrilling spark in that gaze and Harry found himself taken aback at the power of it. If the demon truly desired his soul so much, than Harry wouldn't do anything to stop the consumption, in fact, he'd encourage it.

Green eyes faltered and dropped from Sebastian, catching a small glimmer at the bottom of the box. He frowned thoughtfully at the gold ring, wondering if this item had a mind of its own and preferred not to be reunited with its owner.

But that would be impossible; Harry's magic was strong enough to summon it back to its master anyway.

And in a fraction of a second, he realized what it truly was. He sensed the Dark Magic emitting from it, and he reacted accordingly, albeit too slowly. He was able to slam his palms against Sebastian's chest, sending a bout of magic against the demon and shoving the man off his feet, away from the box.

Harry turned, his cloak whipping around him as he flung it away from his legs. He didn't dare Disapparate, not when there wasn't enough time to discover what other nasty jinxes were around that ring.

Just as he encircled a protective shield around his person, the ring exploded.

There was an incredibly bright light and sound, blacking out Harry's senses. Usually most Dark Art explosives just had a lot of sound and brightness and not a lot of _explosives_, but this one was… it was remarkably forceful. The shield he conjured didn't stand a chance as it buckled against the force and shattered, effectively sending him flying off his feet.

His loss of sight and hearing made it hard for him to get a sense of what was in front of him. Bracing his arms out to protect his head, his body suddenly hit a solid and unmoving wall. As he collapsed to the ground, the whole building trembled and buckled, the Muggles most likely already dead, if not critically wounded.

Something heavy came loose from the ceiling and hit his head, effectively knocking him out cold.

**. **

**.**

**. **

_Oh, God, please… _Harry struggled with the emptiness, with the blackness.

_Not again. _

_Please… if there is a God… please not again. Please overcome death this time. Please…_

His body trembled uncontrollably when waves of panic and indescribable sorrow shocked his system. He died again… and he was going through his rebirth. Like all the times before it, his senses were dead. He couldn't hear, he couldn't feel, he couldn't see. It was dark and so unforgivably cold. All that he had with him were the memories he couldn't turn away from. It was like sleeping without the flicker of hope he'd wake up before reliving them again.

_Ginny, James… _Harry shuddered and his soul sobbed, weeping over the warmth that would no longer be there. _Hermione, Ron, Teddy… _The memories were unforgiving as they tormented him and assaulted him, reminding him cruelly of what he'd lost forever and could no longer have. It reminded him of the never-ending existence of isolation and loneliness, of constant struggle and solitude.

He knew it would be days before he could wake up, before he could snap himself out of the constant onslaught of memories and the shock of dying and coming back to life. And in those days, he would have to adjust once against to a new era, a new Dark Lord, new Aurors, new battles, new customs…

Harry trembled again, ill beyond belief, but not as disoriented as he usually was. Whenever he died, he had hours, maybe days in a void, just replaying memories and not having a conscious, not have an identity. When he woke up from said void, memories of his death would slowly unify with his self-identity and it took even longer to regain the memories of the lifetime he'd just recently left. He would also remember meeting Death, only glimpses of his cloak and a few wisps of conversation.

But he had a self-identity right now, he already _remembered _his most recent era with Ciel and Sebastian, and he had no recollection of a meeting with Death. His memories from 1889 were still intact and he was a lot sharper than he usually was when he was in nothing but blackness.

Merlin, he hadn't died… it was a false alarm. The sense of relief was overwhelming, easily drowning out the terrible headache that exploded behind his eyes.

A hand suddenly touched his cheek, causing Harry to flinch. He lifted his arm and swung it toward the offender, but a gloved hand curled around his wrist, holding his fist airborne.

Harry blinked at the endless darkness and his ears began to ring shrilly as the events of the magic show began to surface. He pulled his hand away from the captor and began to frantically pat his pockets, searching for his wand. The bloody Elder Wand _would _go missing when he actually _wanted _it, now wouldn't it?

Fingers curled around his wrist again, hardly gentle and every bit dominating. Before Harry could struggle, something was placed in his palm, a familiar shape and a familiar weight. The Elder Wand hummed at him lovingly as Harry raised it to his ears and murmured an incantation that would heal his eardrums.

As his ears popped and adjusted, he waved his wand in front of his eyes. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but when they did, he stared into the blood-red eyes of Sebastian. The demon was crouched down in front of him, appearing nothing short of intrigued. Harry blinked, groggy, before looking over Sebastian's shoulder. The building they had just occupied was in shambles.

Smoke seeped from the wreckage and a deep, empty silence was almost enough to deafen his ears once more.

Harry moved his mouth in shock, trying to control his trembling and his racing pulse. The explosion was unfortunate, but believing he had died was something he found difficult to get over.

"Harrison."

Gloved fingers pressed against his cheek, drawing him back to his mind-numbing reality. Once receiving Harry's attention, Sebastian inched closer. The young man inhaled shakily at their proximity, too dazed to react properly to the demon's actions.

Sebastian's eyes grew half-lidded in what could only be described as arousal. "Somehow, your soul just became even more enticing." Thin lips parted and revealed two sharp incisors in a mouth full of strong, white teeth. "Such high-class goods…"

Harry turned fully at that, their nose brushing. "Will you eat me?" he asked, the borderline desperation veiling how truly pitiful those words were.

Sebastian froze, though his predatory leer remained in place. The demon surveyed Harry closely, suspiciously. White gloves clutched at the wizard's chin and angled his head back. "Why are you so eager to die?" he murmured in curiosity. "If you were so eager to die, why haven't you committed suicide?" Sebastian grinned, his sharp teeth looking positively hellish. "Has God forsaken you, child? Yet, even if he has, you still refuse to take your own life. Is it out of religious beliefs or simple cowardice?"

_Inability. _

Before either could defuse the situation, Sebastian stiffened and became alert. The fleeting shadow that scurried across the alleyway was enough to shake Harry from his hazy reverie. With a burst of sudden adrenaline, he leaped to his feet and threw out his wand arm.

"_Protego totalum!" _

His shield sprang to life just as the flames came roaring at Sebastian and him. Planting his feet in a defensive stance, Harry kept the shield strong as the flames encircled them with such fierce intensity it was most likely conjured from a nonverbal _Fiendfyre_ curse.

Moments later, as if proving Harry's assumptions, the fire took form of a large phoenix. The _Fiendfyre_ could only be held at bay for so long, it would have to be countered with _Aguamenti_ in order to destroy it.

Harry lowered his wand, dropping the _Protego _and readjusting his hold on his wand. Perhaps he dropped the shield in order to get a better grip on his wand, but in all honesty, he just wanted the adrenaline, the excitement. Taking advantage of Harry's suspension, the phoenix came diving toward him, causing Sebastian to shift closer, ready to take him and run. The threat, the danger was so high in the small alleyway that it created such a beautiful tension.

Harry chuckled lowly, embracing this _feeling_! This feeling of pure adrenaline and _life. _He just hoped this time, his enemies would put up a bit of a fight.

Just as the heat from the phoenix grew unbearable, Harry threw up his arms and conjured water magic. Taking the form of a serpent, the _Aguamenti_ surged from his wand and curled greedily around the phoenix. As the serpent squeezed the power out of the phoenix, water droplets rained upon his upturned face.

What Harry wasn't expecting was a volley from his opponent while they dueled with the elements. It took a wizard of immense concentration and power to manipulate _Fiendfyre_ or _Aguamenti_ while throwing other curses and spells at the same time. Harry tsked as he batted the curse away, just inches away from his healing stomach.

As he threw the curse aside, his hand turned numb from the power backlash. Green eyes widened and looked across the alleyway at his unseen assailant. His opponent was strong, there was no doubt about it. His wrist was still tingling with the backlash. The last time he batted away a curse with such strong side-affects was when he dealt with his last Dark Lord.

Could this be…?

Harry's eyes narrowed as the phoenix suddenly spread its wings and completely blasted his serpent apart, the reptile turning into nothing but millions of water droplets. Raising his arms parallel from his shoulders, Harry concentrated on the droplets, stopping them in mid-fall. As the phoenix dived once more, Harry solidified the droplets into one cohesive sheet of water. Taking great care, he conjured a layer of oil on the surface of the water.

Just as the phoenix dove into the layer of water and oil, it suddenly lost its form as it melded into the same form as the water. With both the fire and water under his control, Harry simply flicked his wand, banishing the _Fiendfyre_ and the _Aguamenti_.

"Impressive, Harrison."

A curdling sense of dread settled in his stomach at the sound of his name. It was spoken in a whisper, the speaker taking great care to disguise his voice. When no hint of another attack came from the shadows, Harry rocked to the balls of his feet in anger. "That's all you have?" he demanded.

Silence met his answer. Just as Harry believed he'd left, the stranger mused from the entrance of the entryway. "I have what I came for." He sounded amused. "Until next time… Mr. Potter." The sound of Disapparition signaled the man's retreat, leaving Harry both cold and empty.

The wizard knew his surname. No one but Minister Brown knew his surname and their first meeting was the first and last time Harry had mentioned it. He'd told the Minister to keep his surname private, as he didn't want to draw too much attention to his presence in this era. Granted, there were other ways to obtain that information, such as Legilimency… but it still unnerved him. He hadn't felt an invasion in his mind.

"Sebastian," Harry suddenly exclaimed, remembering the demon's presence. "What did he smell like? Human? Wizard? Did you see him?" He looked around the alleyway, unable to spot the demon where he'd last been standing.

"I can't say," the demon murmured distantly from somewhere behind him. "I was too preoccupied admiring you, Mr. _Potter,_" he breathed in Harry's ear. "My, I have to admit I get such a thrill when I see you all worked up. Such light in those normally dead eyes of yours." A finger reached out and stroked Harry's throat before it was gone. "Pity you don't show me nearly as much interest. Perhaps I just need to make you feel a bit more cautious around me."

Harry was abruptly grabbed by the neck and shoved against the wall. His adrenaline over the unidentified wizard fell prey to shock, though a steady current of excitement danced beneath his skin. Sebastian had him caged against the building, one hand possessively splayed across his hip and the other cupping the entirety of Harry's jaw. Physically, Harry could do nothing against the demon.

He could hardly take a proper inhalation past Sebastian's tight hold. The demon was like a cat as he pressed his body flush against Harry's own.

"What is it that you really want, Sebastian?" Harry whispered, his wand held loosely at his side.

They'd had altercations before, Sebastian and him. While the strong emotions had always been there, even during their first encounter, Harry never felt this tangible _tension _hanging between them. He was aware of it now, aware of his own interest and painfully aware of Sebastian's lust. It was so _wrong _that it was intoxicating. Having such a dominant force as Sebastian vying for him was appealing. They could be aggressive without the fear of harming.

"You," Sebastian hissed eagerly.

Was this why Sebastian couldn't consume Harry's soul? Because he was interested in something else altogether? It was a bit unusual, as demons usually didn't go after humans for sexual means when they obtained gratification through consuming souls. And why was it that Sebastian wanted him? Simple curiosity? Or did Sebastian usually give off an air of sexuality around all the 'high-class' goods?

Despite the reasons, Harry smiled past his suspicions. He finally had something to negotiate. "You can have me," he encouraged breathlessly. For good measure, he pushed up slightly against the taller man, only to have Sebastian push domineeringly back. He faltered at Sebastian's antics, trying to get it into his mind that he wasn't dealing with a handsome butler, but a bloody demon with animal instincts.

"On one condition."

The demon's crimson eyes took on a distrustful light as they peered down at Harry.

"You can have my body, but in return, you need to consume my soul." He quirked an eyebrow. "Otherwise, you're not touching me."

Around the alleyway, the sounds of screaming and yelling could be heard. Civilians began crowding around the destroyed building, shouting out demands and sending men to assist in moving the rubble and check for survivors. Standing so far back from it all, Sebastian and Harry were easily concealed and overlooked.

Sebastian looked down and away from Harry, his mouth parted into a humorous grin. "You think you hold the upper hand." Turning back, Sebastian pressed closer. "It's a bit disappointing that a man of your caliber is so easily fooled by a pretty façade. If you have forgotten, I am a demon who is quite capable of putting you down to your level."

"Mm." Harry grinned toothily up at the demon. "I would be happy to see you try."

He'd been ready after his taunt, but Sebastian had been even quicker. One of the main reasons Harry hated demons so much was their ability to move so quick, humans never stood a chance of tracking them. In a fraction of a second, Sebastian released Harry in order to doge the wizard's curse. Eager hands grabbed his arm, and only with a slight twist to his healing arm, Harry was forced to drop his wand.

His memory of his dislocated shoulder was too fresh to forget.

Sebastian had Harry's back against his chest and he all but mounted him as the younger wizard was forced to stand and bend at his waist. He gritted his teeth as he felt the demon's legs cage him in further, the man's groin hardening with each act of friction.

"You want me to consume your soul, little lamb?" Sebastian murmured wickedly. "I can accept your negotiation. Next time, you may want to consider the wording of your propositions. You never said I had to consume it _all_."

He could have blasted the demon off him wandlessly and engaged in a fiercer fight, but Harry suddenly turned limp when his curiosity won out in the end. If Sebastian succeeded in consuming even a fraction of his soul, Harry would have to succumb to the demon sexually. Nevertheless, in the end, Harry would finally have a way out of immortality. If Sebastian didn't succeed, well, then Harry wouldn't need to give anything back to the demon and he would be stuck in phase one.

Sebastian licked alongside the column of his throat before finding Harry's chin with his fingers. He turned the wizard around and eagerly pressed his lips against his mouth. It wasn't a kiss, Harry realized as Sebastian manipulated his mouth to open wide. This was how they consumed their prey.

As Sebastian inhaled Harry's oxygen, his fingernails transformed into claws and broke past the thin resistance of his gloves. Black claws pierced Harry's skin and hooked possessively inside his flesh. At the moment, Harry hardly noticed the superficial claim. He was too focused on the intense and painful _pulling _inside him.

Dimly, he was aware of falling to the ground, Sebastian going with him. The demon remained latched against Harry's mouth, straddling the younger man to get better leverage. Harry clawed at the ground, breathing through his nose and staring wide-eyed at the smoky sky above him.

Whatever hope he had at Sebastian succeeding began to fade as the demon growled lowly in his throat and deepened the angle of Harry's neck. There was something that vibrated and tickled his insides at Sebastian's ministrations, but each time the demon inhaled, it tugged fruitfully against its restraints. Each attempt at breaking free, pain blossomed and veined across his entire body, causing Harry to seizure underneath Sebastian.

He slammed the butt of his palm against Sebastian's jaw, breaking the demon away from him and crying out in pain. He rolled away from the semi-shocked butler and curled in on himself. Pain wasn't the only thing that made him withdraw inside himself.

"What are you?" Sebastian demanded sharply. His red eyes were aglow as they stared down at Harry.

"The course of true love never runs smooth…" A high-pitched voice crooned sadly from the neighboring rooftop. "And yet, you probably imaged that you were kissing me. Isn't that right, Sebas-chan?"

Harry stared up at the… ambiguous figure. He saw nothing but long red hair, sharp teeth, and a gleaming chainsaw poised and ready to use. Oddly enough, the figure had red-framed glasses and flamboyant red accented clothes. "What—what _is _that?" he demanded hoarsely, his misery temporarily forgotten.

"That is a death god." Sebastian dropped his gaze from the figure on the roof to Harry as the wizard stiffened. "No need to worry. I can take care of this." He straightened his damaged gloves and crouched down to intercept the lunging death god.

A shinigami! And Sebastian said he could take _care _of it. Harry pondered on this for a moment, his thought process blank before he threw back his head and laughed bitterly. His laughing grew loud, booming, and tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. Demons, wizards, and death gods, oh my! Oh, how utterly precious this universe was. Was Death, the sadistic bastard, simply trying to amuse him? Give him something to occupy his time with?

His earlier lifetimes weren't nearly as odd as this was, and yet, he still hated it. He hated it more than all the others because he felt so _hopeless. _His sanity was a thin, fraying thread. Throwing in wild characters like death gods, demons, and cunning little Earls just messed with his bloody mind. Sometimes, he felt like he was already dead and this was his afterlife.

Through slit eyes, he noticed the death god and Sebastian standing motionlessly next to one another, simply staring at Harry. They were obviously enemies, but a seventeen-year-old wizard suffocating on crazy laughter wasn't easy to ignore.

"Do I really look that bad tonight?" the death god demanded of Sebastian. "I hadn't planned on running in to anyone, but I always do try to look my best."

Harry abruptly silenced and looked pointedly at Sebastian. "Don't follow me."

Before he lost it completely, he Disapparated.

**Deliver Us**

Harry sat at the edge of the pew and rolled the Gaunt ring over in his palm. The Resurrection Stone hummed happily as he used it for the first time since arriving in 1889. Listlessly, Harry stared at the altar of the church and the beautiful stained glass mural of Jesus Christ. He wanted to weep at the visage. It would be a gift from the heavens if he would be able to meet that all-powerful figure one day, but for now, he could only yearn from a distance and pretend he didn't believe.

"It seems to get harder each day," Harry whispered. "Sometimes, I don't even feel anything. Other times, I feel like I'm going insane. The only times I feel alive is when I'm in battle, and even when I'm battling, I find myself slipping into darkness. I'm doing things that I used to stand against. I kill easily. I don't find sorrow in other people's death. I feel like I'm becoming the very thing I've vowed to fight for eternity."

A redheaded woman sat next to him, her curtain of hair veiling her pale-featured face. She knew Harry liked a silent ear, only interrupting when she felt he needed console. "There is still kindness in you, Harry. There will always be kindness in you." Disheartened emerald eyes turned to look at Harry. "I created you with love, my son. Love will never be out of your reach, even if you lose sight of it."

"And if I do lose sight of it?"

"It will find you again."

Harry pressed his lips together, unable to believe his mother's words. She wouldn't like what he was becoming. He felt as if he were turning into a Dark Lord, a being who refused to love. How could Harry love if he kept dying and having to do it all repeatedly? Over the years, Harry just gave in to his jadedness and aloof nature. Establishing attachments was too tedious for him, useless.

So very useless.

He rolled the ring between his hands, staring numbly at the empty church. "I'd thought of another way to put my soul at rest." Green eyes stared down at his cold, trembling hands. "After all these years, I never thought to have a demon or Dementor consume my soul. If I had, it was just a brief passing; I didn't want my soul to rest forever in their possession. But I changed my mind today."

"It didn't work," she concluded.

"He couldn't consume it." He couldn't blame Sebastian, but he still couldn't face the demon yet. He was angry, humiliated, and too miserable to confront anyone.

"Harry, my love," Lily began forlornly. "Instead of trying to find ways to die, why don't you try to find ways to live?"

Harry's face crumbled and he placed a hand against his face. She had no idea how those words affected him. "I'm one hundred and fifty-years-old. Don't you think I've lived _enough_?"

He'd tried. He'd studied more magic; he'd made friends, lovers, though none of them ever compared to his bond with Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and James. He had tried to live his lives efficiently, but he eventually grew tired. Looking back on it now, Harry realized why Dumbledore had been so calm and inviting when he faced death. He'd already done the things he'd wanted to, met the people he loved, and lost the ones he treasured. He'd had a fulfilling life, and that was enough.

_To the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure. _

**From Sorrow's Hold**

_Scratch, scratch. _

Harry slowly opened his eyes when he heard the faint scratching. Being a light, almost insomnia sleeper, made him susceptible to hearing noises at night. It didn't help his paranoia that he was currently residing in a stolen room at a Muggle tavern, keeping his room by a few mind-altering charms, mainly _Imperio. _Dark, yes, but also convenient when Harry had no money and needed a place to stay.

It wasn't as if he was making the Muggles do anything immoral. Harry just got free breakfast each morning and a bed to sleep in. Due to the attack at the magic show, he no longer had his basement residency, a job, or an employer. Of the guests that attended the show, only a handful made it out alive. The Muggle authorities were looking for him and Minister Brown had owled him and demanded a meeting.

Harry hadn't reacted to either party. He holed himself up in his room, poring over countless of textbooks, both Muggle and Wizarding, which dealt with demons and proper wards to construct to keep them away. After understanding the information, he constructed multiple runes around his rented room. Considering Sebastian hadn't shown his face for the past week, he'd assumed it worked.

After the wards, Harry began researching the current Dark Lord, combing over all the information just in case he missed something. He'd begun to wonder if the Muggle attacks on the aristocrats were even connected to the heavy attacks in the Wizarding world. One thing was for certain, Harry would change tactics when dealing with this Dark Lord.

_Scratch. _

Green eyes narrowed into the dark room. If he wasn't mistaken, the scratching sounded almost like a quill against parchment. Harry clutched his wand underneath his pillow, tense and ready. Flicking his wrist, the lanterns ignited in his room instantly, shedding light across the small room. As his eyes adjusted and searched, Harry visibly relaxed as no attack came from looming predators.

However, a flicker of darkness caught his attention. Harry sat up in bed and narrowed his eyes on the cloud of black smoke that looked more like a dark energy. "How did you get in here?" he demanded icily.

Though ambiguous, Harry knew it to be Sebastian. The black smoke was tall, humanoid, and almost solidified, as Harry couldn't see through it. Wicked tendrils curled around the edges and faint body parts could be seen with each step the demon took. A high-heeled boot struck the floor once before disappearing back into the cloud of smoke. Moments later, a single hand, with black claws, reached out and touched the back of Harry's neck.

It took Harry a moment to realize the demon was indicating to the _marking _at the back of his neck. It was the mark Sebastian had branded on him the night the Dark Lord's followers had attacked.

"Though I can't transform into my human guise," the demon crooned. "I'd say you're getting closer to constructing that rune you attempted those many days ago." He was referring to the rune Harry had transfigured into a chain for around his neck. Sebastian had mocked it when he had seen it, proving that it was ineffective of warding demons away.

If it wasn't for the mark on the back of Harry's neck, he couldn't be sure he would have kept Sebastian out. The mark itself wasn't in any of the books he'd read. They had only mentioned the marks used between human and demon for Faustian Contracts. However, he'd never _made _a contract with Sebastian.

"Well?" he pressed. "Which rune is it?" With his hand, he motioned toward the multiple circle runes drawn onto the floor of his room. There were a total of five chalk-drawn symbols, it could be any of them.

Sebastian chuckled lowly, a clear indication he refused to tell him. The black energy and moved away from the bed. Harry watched it closely, suspiciously, knowing the wispy form was not his full demon form. It appeared as if Sebastian was _shy _over his true form and didn't want Harry to see it.

"Is this where you've been all week?" Sebastian inquired, stopping before the multiple clippings of Muggle newspapers. "I can't say it's an improvement to your basement _suite_."

"Is there a reason you're here?" Harry asked shortly.

Sebastian was silent for a moment. "The young master wishes you'd return to the manor."

"What for?" he countered acidly.

"There has been another attack on a nobleman, in Britain. This is the fifth case." Sebastian floated further down the room where Harry's books were. The tendrils reached toward the demon books. "The nobleman and his wife were killed, along with the entire staff of the manor."

Harry hadn't known about that, but he didn't let it show. He threw off his sheets and sat at the edge of his bed, still fully clothed. "I still don't know what that has to do with me returning to the Phantomhive manor." He raised an eyebrow at the demon. "I'm conducting the investigation by myself."

The temperature of the room began to drop. "You promised the boy—"

"I promised him _nothing_," Harry hissed. "He is a Muggle who can't even hope to aid me and _you_ are a demon who is completely useless. What kind of demon can't consume a human's bloody soul? Did I need to make you my submissive servant before you could suck my soul dry?"

There was an unholy static in the air, a type of atmosphere that made the hairs on Harry's arms rise. A high-pitched yowling came from the corner of the room and Harry started when he caught the tail end of a cat race underneath his bed. The flames in the room flickered before extinguishing, washing the room in blackness.

Unwilling to be frightened by the demon, Harry flicked his wrist, the flames alighting again. However, instead of their earlier brilliancy, they were dim and low, flickering against Sebastian's own power and creating hellish shadows across the bedroom walls. Harry could have sworn he heard raspy whispers rebound across the ceilings and walls, echoing eerily around the room.

When it all came down to it, the haunting whispers were nothing compared to the shock he received when he caught sight of Sebastian. The demon was nothing but a silhouette, but it was enough to dilate Harry's eyes with fear and freeze his insides with terror. _This _was Sebastian's true form. Yes, Harry could make out wings, claws and slit eyes, but above all else, there was an aura of pure and oppressive _evil _around Sebastian.

Just looking at the shadowy figure made Harry feel exposed and unclean, tainted in the worst sort of way.

Somehow, Harry got his legs to work and he scrambled from the bed. He blasted a curse in the demon's direction, hissing in frustration as the creature all but disappeared in a blink of an eye and appeared just inches from Harry's wand arm.

"What a sad, pathetic creature you are," Sebastian sneered. "Blame me for your own defective soul. Or are you just trying to hide what you really are?" The demon chuckled when Harry conjured a solid shield that would keep anything, mainly dark creatures away. "Throw as much magic at me as you'd like, you'll never _truly _defeat me. No matter how powerful a wizard may be, they are still no match for the creatures of hell, Harry."

Harry kept his shield strong. Sebastian simply stayed obediently on the other side, not trying to interfere with the magic. The lanterns finally extinguished again, the only source of light in the room coming from Harry's shield and Sebastian's sinful and damning eyes.

"What do you _want_?" Harry demanded sharply, his voice steady.

"You already know what I want," the demon responded silkily.

Tightening his grip on his wand, Harry forcibly slowed his racing pulse. He remembered the heated exchange in the alleyway after the attack those many nights ago. "My body—"

"No," Sebastian interrupted cruelly. "I want _all_ of you." The demon cocked his head to the side. "Why do you think I marked you?"

"Because I had a tasteful soul." He didn't know where Sebastian was going with this. And even if he did, there was a feeling of uneasiness in the pit of his stomach at the prospect of being the demon's… Logically, it wasn't possible. "You didn't want another demon to try to consume me. Either that, or you needed to track me and get passed the wards I have around the room," he reasoned.

The demon closed his eyes and his silhouette disappeared completely. Harry stayed in place, getting his fear under control in case the demon chose to lunge at him from the darkness. Instead of an attack, a soft breeze played with Harry's hair. Seconds later, the lanterns were back to their full brilliancy and the runes he had drawn on the floor were completely smeared.

He craned his neck and stared at the figure on his bed. Sebastian was back in his human guise and he was currently stroking a black cat in his arms. The cat, Harry realized, had a half-transfigured body with a quill-like tail and a front paw that was the point of the pen. Upon inspection, Harry realized it was the cat he had transfigured during the magic show when he'd just met Sebastian.

As the cat looked up at him, it meowed. Instead of a normal meow, it sounded like a quill scratching against parchment. Apparently, the scratching noise that woke Harry up earlier had been the _cat_. Really, he was surprised it was still so much transfigured. Usually the transfiguration wore off in a day or two. Even with his Elder Wand, simple transfigurations wore off relatively quick.

For the cat to last this long could only mean it established a personality and that it found someone to depend on.

Harry sighed heavily and dropped his shield. _Bloody demon_.

He placed a hand over his face and steadied himself. He was still sore over the realization that even a demon couldn't consume his soul. He'd locked himself in this room for so long, he grew stingy and even more hostile. Quite frankly, even if he didn't _like _Sebastian, he was still being unreasonably cruel to both him and Ciel. It didn't make sense to push them away, not when they were still useful.

"I apologize," Harry murmured finally. He dropped his hand and looked at the butler. "I'm just going through a rough time." _A rough century. _

Sebastian continued to stroke the cat, hardly giving Harry a glance. "Because your soul can't be consumed?" The demon paused and leveled Harry with an impassive stare. "Or is it because you were thwarted once again in your plans to die?"

"I can die," Harry argued hoarsely. "I just can't…" he trailed off and ran a hand through his hair. The prospect of telling someone other than the people of his original timeline seemed appealing, but it was just pointless. Sebastian, especially, wasn't someone he wanted to confess his problems to. Then again, if anyone could help him with this, a demon was certainly high on the list.

"Stay dead?" Sebastian finished with a knowing smirk. "Now, now," he drawled when Harry shot him a look. "You taste far too good for a boy of your age, or _physical_ age, I should say. Of course, your predicament only raises more questions. How you came to be this way, how old you really are, and what happens when you do die."

Harry rocked on the balls of his feet and slowly approached the demon. "I'd rather not discuss it," he hinted shortly.

Sebastian took Harry's rejection in stride. "The other night, you asked me what the man smelt like, the Dark Lord that attacked you." He stared deeply into Harry. "He smelt much like you."

That gave him a pause. "What does that mean?" he pressed. "He smells like a human? A wizard? _Me_, as in my bloodline, my family?"

The demon shrugged casually and gazed lovingly down at his bloody cat. "I wouldn't know. He smelt like a wizard, most definitely, but there were also a few hints of you on him. There are many things that give a creature their scent. It could be their bloodline, a disease, what they surround themselves with, the occupation they work with, anything really."

Harry studied the demon, his eyes tracing over the man's faint smile as he pet the cat behind the ears. Sebastian was much like a Kneazle. He was cute, harmless on the outside, but he was capable of extremely dangerous things. After seeing the true demon underneath the human guise, Harry knew he had to accept that Sebastian was _not _useless, that he was _not _subservient. He was merely acting.

And acting so well was a formidable trait to possess.

Harry remembered when Sebastian had commented on how similar they were. At the time, Harry hadn't wanted to believe it, but he was beginning to see the truth behind those words. Sebastian led a life of a butler and loyal servant for amusement, to pass the time while claiming a prize at the end. One could argue that Harry got his own source of amusement by acting the hero and hunting down Dark Lords.

Crimson eyes slid up to look at Harry with such intensity, the wizard wondered if the demon could read minds. He wanted to ask Sebastian how he dealt with immortality. He wanted to know if playing games with humans really did pass the time.

Maybe he _was _going about immortality the wrong way. Harry had tried to 'live', as his mother suggested, but maybe there was something he was missing, something he wasn't doing right.

"What are you holding?" Harry asked instead.

Sebastian thrust the cat toward Harry. "Fix it," he demanded. "You can consider it a proper apology for your short-tempered remarks tonight. I wonder if your immortality not only stopped your aging but also your mentality. You still have the temper of a teenager."

Appearing unimpressed, but grudgingly agreeing with the demon about his mentality, Harry grabbed the cat from the man and placed the feline on the nightstand. "Why do you even _want _this thing?" Harry asked, truly curious.

The demon raised an eyebrow. "It may look and act real, but it doesn't have dander. The young master is allergic to cats. I'm not allowed to keep them around the manor."

"Hmm." Harry caressed the Elder Wand and gazed down at the half-transfigured feline. He could try a permanent transfiguration, but he wouldn't be too sure if that would give the animal true characteristics of cats, including dander. "I'll have to give it a simple transfiguration again," he commented toward Sebastian. "You'll have to come to me when it begins turning."

Without waiting for a response, Harry tapped his wand against the creature. The magic washed down the animal's fur and transfigured it back to a proper cat. Before Harry could remove his wand, Sebastian already had the animal scooped up in his arms.

"I will pick you up tomorrow morning," the demon breathed against Harry's neck. A finger lightly traced the small hairs behind the boy's ear before pressing against the wizard's jugular vein. "We are visiting an Undertaker to discuss the victims and we could use your assistance. After which, you will be brought back to the Phantomhive manor where you will be staying until I deem necessary."

Harry bit his tongue, wondering when he started taking orders from the demon. He supposed it was the moment Harry had lost whatever innocence he had left by looking into the face of pure sin.

The finger on his neck disappeared before the whole hand curled around the nape of his neck and squeezed lightly.

"Don't make me look for you again."

Insulted by the domineering tone, Harry turned and threw a punch at Sebastian's face. Only, the demon was gone and Harry had to take a quick step in order to regain his balance. He breathed deeply and stared at the spot Sebastian had just stood.

Sebastian wasn't like the demon Harry had encountered before in his other timeline. Judging from the man's ability to wipe away an effective rune, use traces of magic, enter into a warded room, and disappear and appear at will, suggested something different. Moreover, his true form, while only the outline, had struck a terrifying chord deep within Harry.

Sebastian wasn't a typical demon. He was something of legend. Legends, especially when originating in hell, needed to be treated with extreme caution.


	5. Chapter Five

**5. Chapter Five**

Harry clambered into the carriage early the next morning, dressed to kill and having a mentality to match. Ignoring the stony stare from Sebastian and Ciel, Harry threw his cloak on the empty spot next to him and placed his bag on his lap.

"Nice ensemble," Ciel quipped smartly. "But I think I'll miss that raggedy black curtain you were wearing."

Harry's hand paused over his hooded cloak on the seat next to him before he flashed the small boy a smirk. "Yes, thank you." He tugged at the trousers he was wearing. It had been easy to find a nobleman of his stature and _borrow _the man's clothes for himself. They were of the latest fashion. How wonderful for him.

"However, I had a difficult time deciding between these pants or the shorts with the high socks and high-heeled shoes." He looked pointedly at Ciel's outfit assemble, grinning wickedly when he spotted the furious glint in the boy's single eye.

"What era are you from?" Ciel demanded coolly, not really knowing how close to the truth his question was. "They are called knee-length trousers and stockings. The shoes are high-buttoned or bow-tied oxfords. It's what every noble wears at my age."

"Touché." Harry calmly opened a book and buried his face inside the pages. The cover of the book was titled Demonology, stated clearly for his company to read. "Tell me, Ciel, did Sebastian arrive in a humanoid form? Did he come _roaring_? Or did he speak to you in proper English?"

"Paimon," Sebastian supplied with amusement. "You believe I am Paimon?"

"It does say Paimon is one of the Kings of Hell," Harry responded distractedly.

"I'm flattered you think so highly of me," Sebastian gushed in acidic sweetness.

"Hmm." Harry flipped another page, already dismissing that demon. Technically, he just started reading through the Christian demons and Paimon was listed under Abalam in the 'A' section, simply because Abalam was the assistant to Paimon. He still had a long way to go before he got to them all. "Actually, I considered the part where Paimon has a strong male body and a woman's face." Here, he lowered his book and gazed at Sebastian's effeminate bone structure. "But then I immediately dismissed it when I realized your body is quite… flimsy."

Sebastian pressed a gloved hand to his mouth, obviously finding _something _amusing. Next to him, Ciel was clutching his cane and watching Harry curiously.

"How do you know those Christian beliefs are even real?" Ciel asked, clearly finding Christianity a witticism. "Even if they do depict demons correctly, I hardly think Sebastian will acknowledge his true identity."

Harry inclined his head and raised his book back up to his nose. "At least it passes the time," he said ironically. Five sentences later, Ciel interrupted again.

"You said you would tell me more about the Wizarding world."

"I suppose I did," he murmured. "What did you want to know?"

He recalled sitting at Ciel's dining room table. Somehow, he lured Ciel to explain his Contract with Sebastian, and in return, Harry would answer questions about the Wizarding world. He supposed informing Ciel and Sebastian about the Wizarding world could help the two comprehend the attacks. Who knew, maybe a Muggle had a unique way of looking at things.

Caving in, Harry set down his book. Sebastian was sitting calmly to the side, watching the interaction through impassive eyes. The demon could feign disinterest as much as he'd like. Harry knew the man was just as curious as Ciel. Apparently, while Sebastian knew the existence of wizards, he'd never interacted with them personally, or so he said. Harry supposed the demon preferred to prey on easier targets than wizards.

"Is there a ranking system in your world? Such as what we have here, like nobleman, Earls, Queens, etcetera."

Impressed at the intelligent question, Harry waved a hand. "We have the Ministry, which is quite similar to your authorities. They establish laws and protect the citizens. The Minister is in charge of that establishment. However, we also have social rankings. There are purebloods that are similar to aristocrats here. They tend to hold more power and influence and they look down on others with dirty blood."

"And a pureblood _is_?"

Harry held up two fingers. "Simple, really. It's when a magical female, descending from a family of generations of magical folk, mates with a male of equal caliber." He rubbed his two fingers together much to Ciel's exasperation. "They produce a child that is apparently god worthy because they have generations of relatives that are magical. Depending on the family, they are usually against breeding with dirty blood. They think it will lessen their status."

Ciel frowned. "Then what is dirty blood?"

"Either a half-blood or a Muggle-born. Muggle-borns are children born to two Muggles, or non-magic folk like _you._"

"Muggle," Ciel tested it out on his tongue, appearing interested. "Two Muggles can produce a magical child?" It wasn't so much a question than an astounded statement. "I suppose half-bloods are children who have one pureblood parent and one Muggle-descendant." Ciel appeared contemplative, yet wicked as he looked at Harry. "What are _you_? I have a hunch that you're a half-blood. Am I right?"

Harry sniffed arrogantly. "I'll have you know that my father was a very prominent pure-blood." He pinned a smirking Ciel with a look. "In the Wizarding world, I rank above _you_. Some wizards find Muggles extremely distasteful, which has spurred wars in the past." _And future._

"And could that mindset be the reason behind these attacks on the noblemen?" Sebastian inquired. "A wizard who discriminates against Muggles?"

He wanted to drag his feet in answering the demon's question, only because it would irritate the man and amuse Harry. However, he understood the severity of the situation and decided to play along. "It is possible, but I think the Dark Lord has a specific reason for targeting these Muggle noblemen. If it were only about deep-seated discrimination, he would have widespread attacks, not sparse."

"Without your magic shows, how will you lure him out?" Ciel asked, apparently having heard from Sebastian about the attack.

Scoffing, Harry stared out the window. "I don't plan to lure him out anymore. I plan on finding him myself."

It was a solution Harry had eventually come to terms with during his weeklong hiatus. This Dark Lord was clever, intelligent, and extremely cautious. It would be in Harry's best interest not to _draw _the Dark Lord to him. He would be in a disadvantage for not knowing when, exactly, the strike would occur, as evidence of the attack at the magic show. At least this way, Harry could be ready and bring the fight where he wanted.

"This Undertaker," Harry suddenly exclaimed. "What exactly would he be able to help us with? The victims are killed by the Killing Curse, _Avada Kedavra, _if he this undertaker is a Muggle, he certainly would be just as clueless as the authorities."

Ciel and Sebastian shared a look, a clear indication Harry was missing something vital.

"He tends to have information that is useful, even if it is difficult to extract from him," Ciel informed with a scowl that looked ridiculously cute to Harry. "We had a recent… _falling _out, you could say. He is a dangerous man and I would like to have more backup just in case he hasn't come down from his… slip of sanity. You presence will be enough to discourage him from attacking."

Harry opened his mouth and smiled wickedly. He turned his gaze to Sebastian and sized the demon up. "Not even a superior demon, like you, can hold up against him?" He pressed a hand against his chest as the man narrowed his gaze. "I feel tickled that you need me around to feel secure." For good measure, he winked seductively at the demon.

"Don't get too _cocky_," Sebastian murmured quietly. "Who said I didn't want you just for the company?"

The immortal teenager quirked his lips in amusement. "I'd say you're full of shite." He looked down at a tense Ciel, realizing the boy was probably unnerved to hear his butler flirt with a complete stranger. Then again, Harry suspected that it might not have been unusual at all. He was sure the demon had seduced others to get what he wanted; it was a normal occurrence, surely.

Once they came to a stop near a street corner, Harry eagerly scrambled out, slinging the bag's strap over his chest and keeping his cloak draped over his arm. He kept his right hand free in case he needed to draw his wand quickly. Something about this situation did not sit well with him.

As he waited for Ciel and Sebastian to exit the carriage, Harry gazed kitty-corner across the street and toward the Leaky Cauldron. He'd entered it a few times in this era, but it always amazed him how it hadn't changed. In 1889, it looked just as worn down as it did in 2050. It was good to be in Britain this time around, though France had been nice as well.

"What are you looking at?"

Harry turned and stared at Ciel, who was now standing next to him on the sidewalk. He had a brief flashback of James when he had been a child, but he quickly crushed that thought before it could take much shape. With his heart soaring and plummeting, Harry ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

"I heard you ran a company that manufactures toys and candy," he started casually. "Perhaps one of these days I can bring you into the Wizarding world and show you some of their candy and toys for new concepts. I'm sure you'd get a kick out of the Chocolate Frog." He walked past the boy and ruffled his hair. "Not that I think you're a _child_. For business purposes, of course."

"Would you?" Ciel asked neutrally, trying to veil his interest. "It would be a good opportunity."

_A good opportunity. _Harry smirked faintly at an observing Sebastian. Ciel may have been a model image of the perfect aristocratic Slytherin, but underneath it all, he was still a child who was struggling in a life without his parents. He'd been forced to grow up too fast and accept burdens far too heavy for a boy of his age. It didn't help matters that a demon was tainting him, making him struggle through life's lessons just so his soul would turn out more delicious in the end.

"We'll plan for it," Harry reassured.

He fell into stride with Sebastian and Ciel as they made their way down the sidewalk. Vaguely, he wondered what this undertaker was and how he could be so dangerous. Surely, he wasn't another demon. A demon working with bodies without souls seemed rather ironic, then again, a powerful demon working as a butler for a child was also a bit caustic.

They stopped in front of a dark shop, the words 'UNDERTAKER' clearly printed on the store's front. Ciel seemed hesitant for the briefest of moments before he entered behind Sebastian. Taking up the rear, Harry placed a reassuring hand against his pocket, feeling the Elder Wand inside. It was a god-awful place inside, the smell horrible and the items strewn across a bit on the uncanny side. There were coffins against the walls, their quality luxurious and well crafted.

"Earl," a voice crooned from the depths of the store. "I hadn't thought you'd return after our less than pleasant voyage together. I trust you still have possession of my lockets?"

Harry turned, standing partially behind Sebastian and Ciel, but able to see one of the coffins open. He blanched when he realized the man had hid himself inside. Sure, Harry had been curious a few times to know what it felt to sleep inside a coffin, but he didn't think actually trying it would be good for business. Quite frankly, if he'd been in here, buying for himself or a loved one, he would have been out the door already.

When the man emerged fully, Harry felt himself stiffen and go cold. Memories he didn't want to relive reared their ugly heads and flashed behind his eyes. His knuckles turned white as they clutched the strap of his bag.

"_What_ did you bring me?" Undertaker breathed in excitement. His long, silver bangs moved away from his yellow-green eyes, allowing an easier path to scrutinize Harry. "_He_ said you'd be coming to this time, I just didn't think it would be so soon and with such good company."

All eyes turned to Harry who took a step backward in response. "You…" he trailed off, momentarily loss for words. "I didn't think—"

"That I jumped alternative universes like you?" Undertaker laughed quietly.

"No, I already knew that," Harry hissed quietly. "I just didn't think you'd be _here_, with me. Again."

Shinigami jumped alternative universes. He knew that. As proof, the shinigami he'd seen those many nights ago, the one dressed in red, had a death scythe in the shape of a chainsaw. Chainsaws weren't invented in this time, which meant the shinigami had originally been in an alternative timeline before traveling to this universe.

The shinigami were a part of Death, and Death had the ability to move mountains.

He'd thrown around the idea of alternative universes versus past history many times before. He hadn't known if he'd been waking up in the past, or if he'd been moving from different alternative universes. He reluctantly understood that he was jumping universes that only had one thing in common. There was no Deathly Hallows besides the ones that followed him around like lost puppies.

Of course, that wouldn't stop him from _trying _to search for another Invisibility Cloak, another Potter relative. Surely, the three brothers _had _to have been born here and cheated Death. 1889 was a good era to research his predicament, as the other eras had been too early and hadn't been nearly as convenient to find answers from.

Undertaker slouched, bringing his long sleeves against his face to suppress the level of his amusement. He inclined his head, covering the majority of his face with his long hair before poking a sleeve-covered hand toward Harry. "_You _are the one following _me_." Undertaker stared at Harry's stern, impassive expression before his body twitched. "Fufu. This is just marvelous." He twirled around in merriment, his shapeless cloak coiling around him.

"Alternative universes?" Ciel exclaimed in disbelief.

"Yes, Earl, alternative universes. I'm sure you've heard of them before, hm?" Undertaker stopped spinning and nudged a hand at Harry once again. "Ask him where he originally comes from, Earl. I think you'd be surprised at the answer."

Harry was stone-faced as he stared levelly at the Undertaker, painfully aware of Sebastian's sharp, suspicious gaze on him. "I don't appreciate you giving away my secrets, _Alex_." That stopped the merriment instantly on Undertaker's behalf. Harry pushed aside his vulnerabilities and took an advancing step forward. "We've come here to ask you if you know anything about the recent attacks on the noblemen. Is there anything unusual you might be aware of regarding the victims or the ones responsible?"

Undertaker came to a stop next to the counter and began playing with a pink bookmark. "I don't have to tell you anything, Harry. Not without something in return." He stopped fiddling with his bookmark and looked between Ciel and Sebastian. "Usually, I ask for a first rate laugh as repayment, but this time, I want something from _Harry_."

Just as Harry opened his mouth, the Undertaker leaned forward and placed a finger against his lips.

"Nah uh," he tsked pleasantly. "You can't _order _me. I'm no longer a shinigami." With his free hand, he flipped his hair seductively and batted his lashes at Harry. "See, no glasses!" he exclaimed flamboyantly.

Harry snorted and swatted the bony wrist away. "How is that even possible? Of course you're still a shinigami. You were created by Death."

"He is a deserter," Sebastian supplied. The demon came to a stop directly next to Harry, his shoulder pressing up against the wizard. "More than half a century ago, he stopped practicing as a shinigami. Nevertheless, he still managed to keep his death scythe. A few months ago, we learned he was experimenting on humans and immortality, using his status as shinigami to his advantage."

Green eyes dilated and Harry hissed under his breath. "Haven't you learned your lesson already?" he demanded quietly. "Your son—"

Undertaker leaned against the counter and stared stonily at Harry, his expression serious, dead. "Tell me, Harry, what is the real reason you're helping the Earl identify this dangerous assailant? Surely, you don't want to help him earn favor with a manipulative Queen. Is it because he reminds you so much of your own son? What was his name again? Ah, yes, how could I forget? James."

Harry started, his body growing cold and his hands trembling at the mention of a ghost.

"You have a son?" Ciel asked in surprise. "But you're too young to have a son, especially one that would remind you of me."

"You're mistaken, Earl, Harry's son is far older than yourself. Died of old age, actually, just like we negotiated." Undertaker cocked his head to the side, his eyes oddly serious as they watched Harry. "I thought you'd like to know that, considering you were never around to witness it. Although he lived a long, fulfilling life, he never did get over that tragic event."

"Stop," Harry whispered brokenly.

Normally cheerful, yellow-green eyes were stubborn and cold as they dared Harry intervene. It was repayment for mentioning his own son, a tragic end that the shinigami had been torn up over, had been directly responsible for. "Watching his father slit his throat right in front of his eyes never sat well with him."

"_Dad? DAD! NO! Don't do it!"_

"_I—I need you here… Dad… I love you." _

A chord snapped inside Harry and his magic followed suit. Glass jars and glass ordainments shattered throughout the store and even a few coffins cracked down the middle. Without missing a beat, he waved his hand over the glass shards and flung them at Undertaker. The shinigami's speed was equivalent to a demon as he raced away from the flying glass, barely able to dodge them in time due to Harry's extreme rage.

The shinigami whimpered when one of his expensive coffins exploded in an unrecognizable mess.

"I call a truce! A truce! I was merely stating the truth," Undertaker clarified, laughing gleefully as his arm was nicked by a piece of glass. "James Sirius Potter really did live a happy life. I'd thought you'd be reassured knowing." He sprang elegantly across the shop from one foot to the other. "Really, it's been too long, Harry. You need to let your aggression out more often. All that bottling up inside is just unhealthy."

Arms suddenly engulfed Harry from behind, pinning his arms at his sides and caging him in a tight embrace. "Stop it. Calm down," Sebastian breathed in his ear, his tone borderline hypnotizing.

Harry struggled and hissed. "You're defending a shinigami?" he growled. "A _demon _is defending a _shinigami_?"

"I am not defending him," the demon corrected serenely. "We came here for something, did we not? Don't let him distract you from your mission."

It took Harry a few moments to calm himself, even longer to remember where he was and what he was meant to do. He looked over Sebastian's arm for Ciel, not finding the boy anywhere in sight. Sebastian must have taken him outside when he sensed Harry's loss of control.

He took a steadying breath, his temper, and his sorrow lightening into reluctant jadedness as he tucked away all the memories. Undertaker was never quite right in the head, even when Harry knew him by another name. By mentioning Undertaker's son, Harry had initiated the shinigami's fury and wrath. Although, mentioning James and the situation in which Harry left behind in his original timeline _was _a low blow from the other man.

For good measure, he counted backward from ten, reminding himself it was better to forget than to dwell on the memories. He'd had over one hundred years to live with himself and his choice of leaving his family behind.

"You can let me go," Harry ordered tightly, shrugging off Sebastian's hold.

The demon did let go, but on his own time. As soon as the arms slid from his body, the door opened again and Ciel cautiously stepped inside, his gaze scrutinizing as he looked between Undertaker and Harry. Across the store, Undertaker was sweeping pulverized wood into a pile, humming quietly as he did so. While Harry acknowledged that Undertaker wasn't all there, he knew the man put on the act for others, hiding what a truly damaged person he was underneath it all.

"The attacks—"

"My lockets, Earl," Undertaker interrupted Harry quietly. A single, white hand revealed itself from the folds of his cloak. "I would like them back before I cooperate any further."

The young Earl pressed his lips together in a stubborn line before digging in his coat pocket. When the boy withdrew a string of lockets, Harry locked specifically at one locket and issued a heavy sigh. He pressed the butt of his palm against his eyes and tried to steady the emotions of past regrets, past sacrifices. The locket that read _Claudia _winked at him impishly before it was smothered by Undertaker's possessive grab.

"If you think I'm going to do anything with that locket, you have another thing coming to you." Harry threw his hands down at his sides and straightened his shoulders. "Consequences be damned, I will find out information on the attacks from a different source."

"There is that drama of yours," Undertaker crooned gleefully. He curled his fingers over the locket, _hers _in particular. "You will have other, more pressing questions later. I tend to use the locket as repayment when the time is just right." The longhaired man smiled toothily and began advancing toward a coffin in the further depths of the shop.

Impatient with Undertaker's games, Harry glanced over his shoulder at Sebastian. The demon had retreated into the shadows, apparently unable to hold the guise of his butler persona in front of Ciel. A sinister and baleful expression creased the man's face, the eyes, in particular, watched Harry closely, almost contemplatively. Harry knew he was leaving Sebastian and Ciel in the dark about many things, his relationship with Undertaker especially, but there was something a lot more frightening about the demon's gaze than just mere confusion.

Ciel tapped his cane on the floor, appearing just as impatient as Harry. "Do you even know anything about the attacks? Or are you just leading us by the noose?" His one eye narrowed. "I know how much you enjoy games."

"_Nooo_," Undertaker enthused. He ran a spidery hand down the side of the polished coffin, one of the few that were left undamaged in Harry's rage. "I have information you might find useful, especially with the lack of progress you have accomplished so far." He smiled lovingly at his creation before turning around abruptly and pinning Harry with a stare. "I just ask of you one thing."

With a couple of strides, Undertaker stood in front of Harry, appearing solemn. The wizard braced himself, waiting for a request that would put him through another emotional fit.

A wide smile suddenly broke across the shinigami's face. "I want you to lay in the coffin I made especially with you in mind." He leaned forward and cupped Harry's face in between his hands. "Your pretty face can never grace my works of art. But that hasn't stopped my fantasies of seeing you laid to rest in my custom-made coffins."

Sebastian stepped forward abruptly, a low and threatening hiss escaping past his clenched teeth.

Undertaker tsked and pressed his lips against Harry's in a quick, chaste kiss. "Demons are rather possessive creatures, wouldn't you say, Harry?"

"Merlin," Harry groused. He roughly pushed past Undertaker and approached the dark mahogany coffin. "Is this the one you want me in?" He just wanted to leave and never encounter the shinigami again. However, even he knew that would never happen. It was fated that he'd interact with Undertaker once again, their next interaction probably just as _charming_ as this.

"Nothing but the best," Undertaker replied, as if insulted Harry would think of a different coffin. He huddled close to the casket, watching with a wide grin as Harry gracefully climbed inside. "To have such a powerful and ironic figure in my coffin is just _thrilling_. Wouldn't you say, Earl?"

Harry flashed the Ciel a withering look and the boy stared back at him from the other side of the shop. The occupants of the room really had no idea what Undertaker was hinting at. Having the Master of Death inside a casket _was _ironic, but Harry really wasn't as tickled or amused as Undertaker was. If the shinigami hadn't mentioned James so callously, perhaps Harry might have taken a bit more enjoyment out of this.

Fortunately, Undertaker hadn't mentioned his status as the Master of Death. If the shinigami had slipped that piece of information, Harry wouldn't be as forgiving. He hadn't wanted Sebastian or Ciel finding out about his past life, his immortal life. Thanks to Undertaker, they had enough pieces to fit together.

Muffling his anger, Harry laid down on the satin lining and placed the back of his head on the pillow. It was comfortable, he supposed. Green eyes stared up at Undertaker, watching as the shinigami leaned in close.

"Close your eyes now, cross your hands over your chest. Yes, that's it. It's _perfect._" Undertaker shifted around after Harry closed his eyes. "I always thought you would look perfect with a crimson rose, wouldn't you agree, Butler? Crimson is his color, surely you noticed."

Sebastian's silence only indicated the demon's displeasure with the whole situation.

A flower stem was manipulated inside his hands. Harry tried to relax, knowing cooperating with Undertaker's peculiar quirks was better than fighting them. "The attacks," Harry pressed, keeping motionless and his eyes closed. Whatever fetish Undertaker had, Harry would comply for a moment or two. "Tell me something that will impress me."

Undertaker hummed above him. "I'm sure you focused more on the noblemen who were murdered, but I would be more concerned over the _staff_. Out of each of the five households, either the body of the butler or the maid was never claimed. It was a bit disappointing, really, considering how beautiful their corpses were. I could have made them _shine _on their big day."

"No one claimed the bodies?" Ciel repeated. "They had no family members? No friends? The master of the household must have had some sort of records on his employees. One does not hire such an intimate member of their household without knowing who they are beforehand."

Undertaker giggled. "You're one to talk, Earl. But yes, the bodies were never claimed." He patted and pinched Harry's cheeks in order to give him some color. "I also noticed something particular odd about the unclaimed corpses. Each man or woman had callouses on their right hands, particular between the thumb and index finger. Also, the sleeves of their shirts or the inside of their vests all had odd… holsters."

"They were wizards," Sebastian concluded just as Harry opened his eyes in revelation.

Undertaker sat perched at the edge of the coffin, Sebastian and Ciel close by. "Three wizards and two witches, yes." He held up a single finger, his feet swinging back and forth merrily. "And before you ask, no, their wands were not on their persons."

All eyes turned to Harry, as if he had some sort of inside information he hadn't shared with them yet. The immortal teen simply closed his eyes once more and pressed the rose petals against his lips in contemplation. This was certainly a powerful revelation, a very _suspicious _revelation. There were countless of conspiracy theories floating around in his head, though too many for what little evidence he had. Had the Dark Lord attacked these families solely for the wizard or witch who was parading around as a Muggle staff worker?

But _why_? Why would a wizard pose as a butler or a maid in a houseful of Muggle nobles? Had they been sent there to protect the Muggles? Had they been extended family? Had they been sent there by the Dark Lord, but then killed afterward? So many possibilities, so many questions.

"Did the Minister you're working with tell you about these wizards, Harrison?" Ciel inquired. "I find it a bit hard to believe that a wizard just happened to be in each of the households of the noblemen. Unless, of course, staying with Muggles is a regular occurrence for wizards."

"Not really, but it isn't _unusual_," Harry replied softly. "Muggle-borns and half-bloods, especially, are around Muggles quite frequently. But you're right, Ciel, it is a bit convenient that there was a wizard in each of these households. Minister Brown didn't mention it to me, so I assume he doesn't know about it or it conveniently slipped his mind." He opened his eyes and caught Undertaker's attention. "I assume you still have these unclaimed bodies."

"Of course not," Undertaker admonished. He flipped his hair casually over his shoulder. "They were taken from the morgue a couple days after the time of death."

Harry sat up, throwing down the rose and leveling Undertaker with a glare. "That was something you should have informed us of sooner."

"I didn't find it relevant at the time," the ex-shinigami declared airily. "They were simply unclaimed."

The three males in the room scowled at the figure perched cheerfully on the casket. "Did you take photographs of them?" Sebastian probed. "That would be something I imagine you would do. For your _collection_."

Undertaker leaped off the coffin. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Thank you for reminding me, Butler." The edge of his cloak disappeared behind the back door, leaving the three occupants to dwell in the thick silence.

Harry struggled to sit up, flinching when Sebastian grabbed his arm and hauled him from the casket with ease.

"Sebastian," Ciel started, "I want you to take the photographs and find out what you can about these five men and women. How long they worked for the noblemen and their connection to the estates. We need to know if they were established as part of the household before the attacks or if they were planted there at the scene of the crime."

After establishing his balance, Harry swung his head around and locked eyes with ominous crimson. Sebastian appeared irritated at the order, yet he veiled his displeasure excellently. Plastering on a polite smile, the demon bowed at the waist in concurrence.

"Yes, young master. I will have the interrogations finished before you…" the demon trailed off and looked at Harry pointedly. "And Harrison return home for lunch."

"And I expect lunch to be prepared by the time we get back," Ciel necessitated. The boy straightened his hat before tugging on his gloves. "I would like to stick to our schedule. If you recall, I have a meeting with a client tonight for dinner. Things need to be arranged before his arrival. I expect _no _mishaps, Sebastian."

Merlin, but the kid could be demanding. Harry had his assumptions that Ciel had reverted back to his snippy, aristocratic role because he felt powerless. He was confused over Undertaker's relationship with Harry and he had questions over what he'd heard about Harry's past and his immortality. While Ciel was a child, he was still smart enough to know that Harry would never indulge him with answers to such personal matters. Ordering his demonic butler around gave him power, control. By having Sebastian wrapped around his finger, Ciel most likely felt that he had ground above Harry.

Harry placed his hands in his pockets and gazed coolly back at Ciel when the boy turned his sights onto him.

"And you, we need a cover story for your presence in my manor."

The wizard raised his eyebrows before admiring his nails. "Not to boast, but I _am_ a rather brilliant gardener."

"I already have a gardener, no matter how inadequate he may be," Ciel informed stiffly. "I was thinking you could be my tutor. You can specialize in world history, but behind closed doors, you will teach Wizarding history and customs." A wicked smile crossed the boy's face. "I think that will suit you just fine. That is, if you're capable."

"If I'm capable," Harry repeated in a mocking-sort of tone. "I highly doubt you'd find much better instructors."

Ciel shot Sebastian a condescending look. "Fit my lessons with Harrison into my schedule. We'll start tomorrow." He swung around, his cane striking the floor smartly. "I will be waiting for you in the carriage, Harrison. Please make haste."

Sebastian and Harry caught each other's gazes, the latter scowling. "How can you stand that little bugger? If he wants me as a tutor, I will gladly teach him a lesson or two."

The demon only stared back at him, still reluctant to speak his mind or slip from his dutiful butler act. Something was obviously on his mind, something Harry didn't know if he wanted to know the answer to. Despite the pretty façade, Harry kept thinking back to last night when Sebastian had revealed his real form. Nothing was innocent _or _docile about this man. It was better to keep a respectable distance.

Nonetheless, he found himself pestering. "What?" he snapped. "What's on your mind?"

Before he knew it, Sebastian's hand curled around the nape of his neck. The demon put pressure on his neck, forcing Harry to bow his head marginally. The butler huddled closer to Harry, leaning down to press his lips against the younger man's ear.

"I have a lot on my mind, especially your—"

"I have the photographs right here!" Undertaker exclaimed excitingly, suddenly appearing directly between Sebastian and Harry, forcing the two to separate. "I apologize for taking so long. There was quite a bit to look through." He thrust them in Sebastian's hands and pushed the two out the front doors. "By the way, Harry, you really should talk to _him _more often. He thinks you're quite humorous, really, for avoiding him. He's happy to serve you, you know. All you have to do is _ask_. Your wishes are his command."

"Go to hell," Harry snarled over his shoulder at the mention of their mutual _friend._

"We wouldn't want him there, I assure you," Sebastian informed silkily.

Undertaker just smiled and waved after them joyously. "Come back if you ever want to know the details behind that sinful mark on the back of your neck, Harry," he purred. "As I'm sure you'd prefer being an immortal wizard, as opposed to an immortal demon."

Sebastian turned at that, his black fringe falling into his eyes as he leveled Undertaker with a malicious stare. "Mind your own business, shinigami."

Harry stumbled from the exit, the door to Undertaker's shop slamming on his face. Slowly, he turned to look at Sebastian, suspicious and angry beyond belief. "What the hell did he mean by that?" he asked softly, a mere cover to what he really felt. "What did he mean by being a demon?" He took a step closer to the impassive demon. "Is that what the mark on my neck is for? To turn me into a demon?"

"I would like for you to really think about what you just asked." Sebastian flipped through the photographs before tucking them inside his suit. He smiled thinly at Harry. "If I truly wanted to turn you into a demon, do you think a simple mark would do the trick? There is no logic behind his accusations and you're only looking like an idiot by believing him."

The wizard rocked onto his heels, giving Sebastian a wary once-over. Not exactly an expert at demonology, Harry did acknowledge that it was unlikely a mark would be able to convert him into a demon. Still, it was something to keep a close eye on and research. How the hell can someone _become _a demon? Was it even possible?

"If it's true… and you want to turn me into some sort of demonic _pet_…" Harry started threateningly, finding out he really didn't have a sound threat at the tip of his tongue. He settled for something relatively weak. "I will rip your arm off and proceed to eat it."

Sebastian flashed his teeth at that, all humor. "It may be worth it just to see you make good on that promise." He leaned in close. "The mark is a locator. I wanted to be able to track you if you disappeared before helping us catch the killer. That's all you need to worry about." Taking a step back, the demon inclined his head. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm a bit behind schedule."

Harry leaned against the corner of the shop, watching as Sebastian disappeared from sight. _A locator, _he said. It didn't sit well with Harry, especially when he knew there was more to the story. It was frustrating that he couldn't read Sebastian or press further for more answers. And it certainly wasn't fair that the demon knew more about him than Harry wanted.

_Damn Undertaker. _

The immortal wizard breathed deeply and slowly exhaled. He pressed his head against the brick wall and closed his eyes to pacify himself. Being reminded of his son… and in such a brutal and public way…

He fisted his hand and threw it against Undertaker's door. There were many regrets he'd experienced in his long lifetime, but leaving Ginny and his son behind in such a way would always be his number one mistake. He'd been so desperate, so afraid, and _alone_.

He had truly loved her, the one woman who could always make him feel normal and loved. He'd loved her even more when she grew older, finding it endearing how she used to complain to the mirror about oncoming wrinkles or the start of a grey hair. It hadn't been easy on her to have a youthful husband, but she tried to make light of it, never realizing that it was hurting Harry far more than it was hurting her.

Aging glamours could only go so far for Harry, who had to struggle and wear one each time he left the house. It was even harder when James began to age, easily surpassing the age of seventeen and looking older than his father. He'd had a special bond with James, but they began to grow distant once he found his own family and had his own children.

Seeing the aging generations of the Potters had really affected him. It hadn't helped that Ginny and he had begun to argue more often, Harry being accused of being unreasonably immature. She'd found a good friend in a man that actually _looked _sixty-years-old, his wisdom and his maturity impressing her. They had never had an affair, or so Harry assumed, but he struggled with Ginny's consistent and unconscious comparison between himself and that stranger.

"Are you _coming_?" a voice demanded.

Harry blinked at the carriage, which had rolled up in front of Undertaker's shop. Ciel had opened the door and was impatiently waiting for Harry's entry.

Sebastian and Ciel knew the bare minimums of his past and there would be questions. Harry just needed to construct a solid, impassive mask when handed those questions and pretend as if they weren't details of his past that constantly ate at him when he fell asleep.

Burying everything away, Harry stepped forward and reached for the carriage. Just as he entered, he happened to glance across the sidewalk. Just like the mention of James in Undertaker's shop, Harry's body turned motionless and cold when he spotted a dog sitting on its haunches. It was enormous, black, and intimidating. The dog panted and perked his ears when Harry locked eyes with it.

The memory was fleeting, the long years eating away the finer details. But in the end, Harry was quick to remember a dog with the exact same face.

_Sirius Black._

Once the thought came to him, the dog flattened his ears against his head and barked viciously at Harry. The wizard blinked just a fraction of a second, but just as quickly, the dog disappeared from the sidewalk. He looked around wildly, wondering if it had just been a fragment of his imagination or something a bit more ominous.

"Harrison?" Ciel ventured. "Are you alright?"

Already having enough mental breakdowns for one day, Harry slammed the door shut to the carriage and simply nodded.

**Deliver Us**

They were always more beautiful when they couldn't speak, couldn't form a conscious thought. Careful, cautious hands layered on the crimson gloss with flawless expertise. The once pale, lifeless lips had suddenly come to life under his practiced ministrations. Dipping the brush back into the gloss, Undertaker hummed serenely and deliberated on which shade to give her lovely, glassy eyes.

"You know, I had expected you to come back, just not so soon." Undertaker's lips parted into a humorous smile at the antics of the demon in the shadows. "You want answers about your _mate_, I assume."

A steady pause came from the butler. "And you're willing to give them _voluntarily_?" the demon inquired silkily.

Undertaker chuckled merrily. "Within reason, of course." He tilted his head marginally and revealed the scars across his face to his attentive company. "I know how stubborn he can be. He is rather sensitive when it comes to the personal life he calls _hell._ Who do you think gave me these scars after pushing too far?"

The shinigami stood up and leaned his palms on the table before him. "I can show you a few details of the past with my death scythe. _His_ past." Silver hair angled to the side when he cocked his head in the general direction of the demon. "But it will cost you."

Crimson eyes narrowed. "What is your price?"

A spine-chilling chuckle echoed across the room. "You continue serving Ciel Phantomhive loyally, but in the end, you will not consume his soul."

Silence stretched for a length of time, Undertaker patiently waiting with a few fancy taps of his fingers and toes. When the answer finally came forth, the shinigami was genuinely surprised at the demon's response. So much so that he hadn't been prepared with a backup plan.


	6. Chapter Six

**6. Chapter Six**

_Bostwick, Landon, Newbury, Reynolds, and Wickham. _Those were the names of the five noble families and their staff workers that had been murdered in the Muggle attacks.

Standing back, Harry studied the expansive wall. Photographs and his chicken scratch lined the white wall and Harry felt no remorse for ruining the Earl's lavish décor. Even if he was currently occupying the senior servant quarters of the manor, the Phantomhive family spared no cent when it came to comfort and luxury. It was warm, comfortable, and large enough to support Harry's pacing.

He hastily declined to eat lunch with Ciel and only stayed long enough to listen to Sebastian's findings of the five wizards who were killed along with the rest of the noblemen's staff. Apparently, the neighbors or the friends of the estate confirmed they'd seen the five staff workers, though they had been relatively new hires and couldn't remember their proper names. It didn't give them much to go on, but it did tell them that their bodies hadn't been planted at the scene of the crime.

Either the wizards working for the five noblemen were assigned there as moles for protection or information, or they had been there voluntarily. Harry doubted it was the latter. It was too convenient that there was a wizard or witch in each household.

Harry had owled Minister Brown and asked about the identity of the deceased wizards and witches. Minister Brown had promptly owled Harry back and explained he hadn't been aware of any wizards occupying those five Muggle households. However, he would question the Aurors and see if the Law Enforcement Department knew of any undercover assignments.

Minister Brown's letter was hung up on the wall, giving Harry a sinking feeling that things weren't exactly how they seemed. He would have to go to the Wizarding world and get clippings of the obituaries. It was the only way he'd get the identities of these five witches and wizards. That is, assuming they had family to report them missing or dead. Harry wasn't sure the families even _knew _about their loved ones' demise.

Under the written name of the noble estates, Harry had a picture of each noblemen and his family. And underneath the noble aristocrats, Harry had hung the photographs of the wizard or witch who had worked at the estate and had fallen during the attack. He stared at the John Does, hunted by their slack and serene faces. One of the witches was young, appearing no older than twenty.

A light breeze ruffled his hair, causing Harry to turn around and assess the empty room. His eyes landed on the corner table where a tall glass of thick, orange liquid sat next to a sandwich. The plate of food definitely hadn't been there earlier, he was certain of it. He'd skip lunch and dinner, his empty stomach proof enough of that.

The late night snack was cute, endearing maybe, especially because it came from a high-ranking demon. His first response was to reject the food, tell the demon to stop coddling him, and take the bloody food back where it came from. However, he was feeling a bit lenient tonight and he didn't mind Sebastian's presence.

"Where's your pet cat?" Harry asked the seemingly empty room. "I would have thought you'd bring it for its nightly maintenance."

"Nonsense," Sebastian replied pleasantly. "It will give me an excuse to come back tomorrow night."

The wizard turned around the other way, spotting the demon sitting stiffly at the edge of the bed. The man was sitting a bit _too_ stiffly and there was a noticeable attempt to favor his left side, his right leg and right arm hardly touching the floor or any part of his body. His clothes were clean, flawless, but that didn't mean he hadn't changed into a new suit before arriving here.

"What the bloody hell happened to you?" Harry demanded breathlessly.

Sebastian raised a single eyebrow. For a moment, he appeared as if he would brush off the question with a white lie. "I attempted to extract answers from an unwilling source."

Harry grunted, eyeing the demon suspiciously. He knew demons tended to heal rather quickly and it was hard to wound them for a long period of time. "What?" Harry drawled, pressing for answers. "Do demons generally come across one another and try to skin each other alive?" It was the only thing he could think of. Another demon must have injured Sebastian.

The only other thing known to slow down a demon was a… a…

Death scythe.

Stiffening, Harry narrowed his sights on the demon. "You went to Undertaker." One thing he knew was that Undertaker was an excellent combative shinigami, probably once the best. If anyone could get a high-ranking demon to walk away bloodied, it was him.

Slowly, the implications of Sebastian's visit to Undertaker suddenly pieced themselves together. Harry exhaled sharply, flashing the man a repulsed look before walking rigidly over to the corner table. He plopped himself down and stared levelly at the demon. "Was his price too high?" he inquired softly, dangerously. "He didn't squeal out my past like you wanted him to, did he?"

"He squealed," Sebastian corrected quietly, "just not what I wanted to hear."

Harry snorted and placed a hand against his forehead, wondering why he wasn't as angry as he had a right to be. Maybe it was because Undertaker hadn't given up any information or maybe it was because Sebastian was being suspiciously truthful right now. It did help matters that Harry already had his suspicions that Sebastian would do something like this. Hearing it from the demon himself was a shock in itself.

"What was his price?" Harry asked evenly. Briefly, he wondered if Sebastian would continue to be upfront with him. It certainly helped matters to have an adult conversation once and awhile.

"Like you, he seems to hold an attachment to my master. He wanted me to refrain from consuming his soul in the end." Crimson eyes flashed sinfully from across the room. "I decided to use my own methods to find answers."

If Harry didn't know Undertaker's past, he would have been surprised at the request. However, he knew about Undertaker's son and he knew the shinigami had a soft spot for children. At any rate, Harry didn't know Undertaker's history _here_, in 1889. He might have had stronger ties to the Phantomhive name than Harry knew about.

"You really do plan on doing it, don't you?" The wizard looked across the room at the demon. Harry, himself, was torn up over the prospect of Sebastian consuming Ciel's soul. The boy was so young, _too _young to think about sacrificing himself. "You will really consume his soul?"

Sebastian bowed his head, his black hair veiling his face. When he looked back up, his dark humor was evident. His sharp fangs poked his bottom lip and his pupils began turning into slits. "I'm a demon, pet. We made a contract with terms that suited both our purposes. I have invested too much already." He cocked his head to the side and held up a few gloved fingers. "I even gave him a few chances to turn back. For a demon, that's being unreasonably _soft_."

He'd known that. He'd known. Still, it was a bit hard to swallow hearing if spoken so candidly. With Sebastian, it was extremely difficult to remember the demon lurking beneath his façade. When he interacted with Ciel, Sebastian seemed so genuine, so protective, so _human_. It was frightening, really, to be reminded that there was a monster out there dangerous enough to lead his prey and those around it into false security.

Harry shifted uncomfortably, much to Sebastian's amusement. "Don't you ever feel attachments to them? The ones you contract with? Ciel, especially, is so broken. I think he'd trigger anyone's protective stimuli, no matter how buried it would be."

The demon laughed cruelly. "I am protective of him, protective of his _soul_. He's a human. Humans with appetizing souls are considered potential food sources. Humans with unappetizing souls are considered as mere annoyances, a waste of space."

"I find it hard to believe," he persisted. "You don't even have a _sliver _of affection for Ciel?"

Sebastian appeared entertained at Harry's confusion. "You're a human," the demon pointed out unnecessarily. "You wouldn't understand a demon's mind frame. We live for eternity and we need humans only to sustain ourselves. Overtime, humans all blend in together. One contract after another is only used to pass the time. We hold no affection for humans, just occasional… responsibility or obligation. I've seen children like my current master many times in the past."

Harry didn't believe it at all. Sebastian was probably expected to feel nothing, but the demon most likely formed attachments doubtless. Then again, Sebastian had to have eaten before Ciel. Even if he did form attachments, it was still a predator's attachment that didn't end well for the prey.

"You never feel any emotions? How about for other demons?" he wondered curiously

The demon sat there for a moment, appearing contemplative and indecisive. "It's rare we feel much of anything besides possessiveness for the souls we contract with or claim. Anger and disgust are other emotions we experience quite frequently. Other demons are just seen as our competition, though there are a select few we get along with. Mates are an exception. I suppose only then can we feel things akin to _love _or affection."

"Mates," Harry repeated dubiously, a quirk to his lip. "Demons have mates? I find that hard to believe."

Sebastian stared at Harry closely. "Why is it so hard to believe? Demons have mates for the very same reasons that humans and animals do; sexual satisfaction, a sense of security… _companionship_."

_Companionship_. The word went straight through his skin and left his body feeling hallow and cold. To avoid how much it affected him, Harry leaned forward and plucked at the sandwich Sebastian had brought up for him. He supposed it had been silly to assume demons wouldn't have mates. It was just the other day when Harry compared Sebastian to an animal with primitive instincts.

"How old are you, Harry?"

Harry stopped chewing, the delicious sandwich suddenly tasting like sawdust. He realized their usual conversation had shifted. Harry usually held the upper hand in their discussions, but it was beginning to turn in Sebastian's favor. Even if it was Harry who'd been feeding Sebastian the questions, it was Sebastian who held the reins.

"I know what you're doing, demon," Harry admonished. "You were upset that Undertaker didn't give you the answers you wanted, so you buttered me up by answering _my _questions about _you_. You're hoping I'd be privileged enough to talk about my past. Am I right, or am I right? Hell, I'm sure this sandwich was meant to bribe me, wasn't it?"

Sebastian stared at him before blinking once. "Is it working?"

"You and Ciel…" Harry shook his head. "You know, I was never very cunning or manipulative when I was growing up. But I've been around enough Dark Lords to catch on quickly." _Not to mention the old, manipulative coot. _"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you and your master were formulating a plan to take on the Wizarding world together."

"How old are you, Harry?" Sebastian repeated. "Let's not talk of my master tonight. He's already tucked safely into bed. Out of sight, out of mind." He flashed his teeth in a smile, the sharp fangs looking positively frightening. "I assure you, I will keep everything just between the two of us."

It was curious as to why the demon even _wanted _to know. Harry leaned against his chair and crossed his legs. "One hundred and fifty-years-old," he replied stiffly. "I stopped aging physically at the age of seventeen. According to you, I also stopped aging mentally."

Sebastian laughed wickedly. "You're nothing but a mere _child_," he crooned. "Though, I suppose it is considered old in human years."

"And you?" Harry asked sharply, narrowing his eyes on the demon.

The demon flipped a casual hand, still amused with Harry's reluctance to tell. "In human years? I stopped counting long after one thousand, perhaps closer to two." He chuckled again, as if tickled with Harry's foot-dragging. "Granted, I didn't come up here, in the human world, very often in my earlier years. If I did, it wasn't for very long. There are still many things I can learn here. Isn't that right, Harry, you have just as much to learn yourself."

The revelation was extremely shocking to him. Harry took a moment to wrap his mind around the prospect of living for thousands of years. It didn't conjure itself. He'd never thought he'd live to one hundred, let alone nine more hundreds after that.

"Again with the human mentality," Sebastian murmured quietly, breaking Harry from his thoughts. "I can finally understand your reckless insistence of trying to die. You're afraid of immortality. Tell me, how many languages can you speak fluently? How many instruments can you play proficiently? How many places have you traveled to? My, with you being a wizard, you have twice as many things to complete before you can even consider being bored."

"I get it," Harry snapped shortly. He offered the demon a quick glance of disdain. "You're welcome to your own opinions, your _demonic _opinions. The fact of the matter is that _I _am ready to pass on."

"But you won't," the demon hissed, suddenly vicious with his tone. "You have an eternity ahead of you, I'm afraid. There are many things to do instead of wasting your time scheming up ways to die."

Harry flinched and stood up. "Get out," he whispered coldly. It was too close to what his mother had said.

"What will you do up _there_, Harry?" Sebastian demanded gleefully as he stood up. He laughed darkly. "You're a religious believer, a child of God, no? Eternal life if you die, pet. What is so different about having eternal life in God's Kingdom versus eternal life here?"

"What's so different?" Harry repeated in hilarity. "There is no pain, no suffering, nothing but eternal bliss."

"I'll give you that," Sebastian was quick to agree and counter. "But that's just it. There is no suffering, no wars. You _thrive _on that, don't you? I see you in battle. You crave adrenaline and danger. You can deny yourself as long as you'd like, but I can _see _that thrill you enjoy so much. Battling Dark Lords won't even be an option for you if you die. You'd just have immortality."

Harry shakily sat down. Sebastian's words hit him hard, giving him something to think about, giving him a new prospective he hadn't even considered before. Merlin, it was heavy. Giving his soul eternal rest was appealing; it would always be appealing. However, he was gradually understanding Sebastian's point of view. It was true. When he dueled, he felt _alive_. And just like Sebastian hinted at, Harry still had a lot to learn. There was an endless supply of information out there that Harry hadn't even tapped into. Surely, he'd noticed that before, but when Sebastian said it, it felt like an entirely new revelation.

Immortality suddenly didn't feel as empty and alone as he thought. There was still the reluctance to form attachments, the jadedness, and the fear of dying and being reborn again, but life itself didn't feel bleak.

"You're corrupting me," Harry realized numbly.

"Am I?" Sebastian whispered, his voice coming just inches away from Harry's ear. His stood behind Harry's chair, one hand curled around the back and the other nearing the nape of Harry's neck. His gloves were absent and his black fingernail stroked his mark possessively. "I thought I was merely pointing out your _desires_." The split-crimson eyes were no longer human, they were demonic as they locked eyes with Harry.

_His desires… _The word punctured his insides and stained his soul. His heart yearned for something he hadn't thought he'd wanted; eternal life with danger, with adrenaline. _Yes, _Sebastian's influence whispered with glee, _that is what you desire. _An invisible tendril of darkness curled around his throat, wrapping seductively around his neck and giving a firm squeeze.

The wizard's heart gave a profound _thump_ when he spied the immoral gleam in Sebastian's eyes. While it was only a marginal peek to the demon's true form, it was enough to accelerate Harry's pulse and give him cold sweat.

He blinked past the influence, past the demon's hold and narrowed his eyes up at the man. That was far too close to Legilimency for his liking. "What is your true name?" he asked boldly, giving his mind something else to consider.

The demon smiled thinly. "It's not Sebastian." He leaned closer, his lips nearing Harry's own. "I will tell you my name when you tell me _how _you came to be immortal."

"Sebastian is a good name," Harry replied simply, refusing to get into detail about Death and the Hallows. He watched as Sebastian's face strained, becoming almost frightening even in his human skin. "You're a smart… demon. You have all the pieces you need, just piece them together."

"If that's the case," Sebastian started tensely, "why don't you just tell me?"

"I like to see you struggle," he responded brightly.

His glee slowly dimmed when he realized that Sebastian was currently making _him _struggle without words. Their closeness was painfully obvious and Sebastian's near proximity was nearly smothering. His pulse was in his throat and it took a great deal of courage to look the demon in the eye. In turn, the man had his eyes half-lidded as he watched Harry, his appearance rivaling that of a smug cat. The demon was completely cool, alluring, and Harry hated it.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked through gritted teeth. "Have you ever had sex with a human?"

Sebastian couldn't have been expecting the question, and yet, he hardly seemed taken aback. "No," he replied without hesitation. He leaned closer. "Though, I've had countless of experiences where I gave the _illusion _of sex to my victim in order to get answers. The worst I've had to dirty was my glove. I'm not an incubi, pet. I'm a demon with _class_. I hardly think they would be able to walk away _intact _after such an experience. They would be completely corrupted."

Harry looked warily at Sebastian's gloveless hands, his eyes lingering on the seal of the Faustian Contract on the back of his palm and the perfect black fingernails. "Then forgive my candidness," Harry started slowly, looking back up into those crimson eyes. "But if that's the case, then why would you want to get into my pants?"

"You're a smart man. You have all the pieces you need, just piece them together," Sebastian replied, throwing Harry's earlier words back at him. "I like to see you struggle."

Green eyes narrowed. "Humorous." He grabbed his glass of frothy liquid and slurped in Sebastian's face, completely dissolving the tension between them. Smacking his lips, he gave the demon a coy smile. "If you wanted answers from me, you can just _ask._ There is no need to use sexual illusions. I'm not so easily swayed by a gloved finger up my arse."

He whirled around in his chair before escaping the other side. It would be unnerving if Sebastian used that method to extract answers from Harry. He liked to think that _if _that somehow transpired, he still wouldn't give Sebastian the answers he wanted. But he could never be too sure. Sebastian didn't even have to turn into his true form to intimidate Harry, and considering how long Harry had lived for, that was saying something.

Ten minutes hadn't even passed and Sebastian had already made him view his immortality in a new light. For over one hundred years, Harry had the same opinion of eternal life. Frightening how a demon could turn that solid belief around so quickly.

"You're a silly, naive human," Sebastian breathed behind him. "Or perhaps you just prefer to lie to yourself."

The demon was in a playful mood and Harry wasn't nearly as ready to deal with that as he'd liked to think. It was best to steer the conversation away from things he'd be uncomfortable with, especially when Sebastian had a way of convincing him of things he'd never thought he'd agree to.

"I suppose you're right," Harry mused, staring at the wall of photographs and chicken scratch. "I am lying to myself." He looked at Sebastian over his shoulder, the demon standing prim and proper behind him. "This is a cover up. The Dark Lord really had nothing to do with these Muggle attacks. They're too organized, too _specific_. I have a sinking suspicion that these…"

He trailed off with a heavy heart and looked at the young witch in the photograph. "These were meant to be a cover up by the Ministry. The two witches and the three wizards did something or saw something they shouldn't have. The Ministry took care of them and pinned it on the Dark Lord."

The demon knew exactly what Harry was doing in avoiding their earlier conversation, yet he only appeased the younger man. "You think the Ministry is covering their tracks."

Harry nodded and touched the letter Minister Brown sent him. "It's extremely odd that the Minister didn't know about any witches or wizards planted in the Muggle aristocracy. He said he's going to check with the Law Enforcement Department to see if there was an undercover assignment. Even if there was, I highly doubt they will tell me about it. I'm not trusted enough." He heaved a frustrated sigh and surveyed the photos.

"There is a war going on in the Wizarding world, correct?" Sebastian inquired. "You said the attacks are more widespread and have more casualties. If the Ministry truly wanted to kill these men and women, why did they go through the trouble of planting them in the Muggle world? Wouldn't it have been easier to just stage their killing in the Wizarding world?"

The wizard nodded distractedly, mulling over Sebastian's words. "Unless…" he trailed off and looked at the head of the estates, the Muggle noblemen. "Unless this was a case of killing two birds with one stone."

Sebastian and Harry looked at each other.

"Why would the Ministry want Muggles killed?" the demon pressed. "Why would that be relevant to their needs when they aren't directly responsible for the Muggle world?"

Pressing a hand against his cheek, Harry stared blankly at Minister Brown's letter. The longer he stared at it, the more his cerebral thoughts began to take shape. "Merlin," he whispered in dread. "In my time, the Minister of Magic corresponded regularly with the Prime Minister of the Muggle world." He caught Sebastian's gaze, noticing the demon had begun to catch on. "If it's the same in this time, it's very possible that Minister Brown could be corresponding—"

"With the Queen," Sebastian finished grimly. "If the Queen wanted members of the aristocracy eliminated, she would find a way to do so."

"I…" Harry trailed off and looked back at the young woman on the wall. "The Minister and the Queen probably had common goals. They both used the Dark Lord to cover up these murders. And the Queen asked Ciel to look into this. If she was really responsible for these attacks, and she knows about the Dark Lord, she had every intention of luring Ciel to his death. There is no way he could go up against a Dark Lord. And if he found out about the Queen, she would have him executed. She meant for him to run into a dead end, demonic butler or not."

The demon frowned. "What were they covering up? How could the Phantomhive estate be involved?"

Harry shrugged. "Ciel's father could have had something to do with it or maybe the Queen is just tired of the current noblemen at her disposal." He turned his heel and began walking out of the room.

"Where are you going?" Sebastian demanded, falling into step with Harry.

"I'm warding the manor," Harry informed coolly. "The only _thing _that will get through the wards would be harmless humans or demons. If it's a demon, that's entirely on your turf. I'll leave things up to you."

Before he could get much further, a restraining hand curled around his bicep and tugged him back. Harry grunted at the pain that shot up and down his arm.

"And what about you?"

"What about me?" Harry persisted, trying to get his arm back.

"You're not going alone." Sebastian grabbed Harry chin and forced the wizard to fall still and look at him. "The Minister accepted your help to look into the Dark Lord. He may have been just humoring you at the time, but if you make it known that you're on to the Muggle murders, he will target you just as well. Not only will you have the Dark Lord and his men after you but you'll also have the Ministry after you."

"Unlike Ciel, I'm immortal," he reasoned. "I prefer to finish everything before leaving here, but if I don't, it won't be that big of a deal. Besides, I can always learn a new language in my next life. Maybe start learning the violin. Or drums… those always—" Harry gasped when his back was slammed against the wall and Sebastian was there, pressing against him.

"Pity, I'm most certainly not through with you yet." The butler cupped the side of Harry's face and leaned down. "I don't think I will _ever _be through with you."

As the demon's lips pressed against his own, Harry could only compare how different it was to when Sebastian tried to consume his soul. This was intentional, focused, and deliberate. Harry's soul may have shuddered, but it was for an entirely different reason than consumption. The demon claimed his lips fiercely, possessively, his hands curling tightly around Harry, torn between tugging him closer and pushing him further against the wall.

Being held this tightly, this closely, made Harry feel entirely possessed. It felt _good _to be held like this. As much as he liked being in control, having someone stronger than him, possessing him like this, was pleasing. For experimental purposes only, Harry pushed back against Sebastian, his lips clashing and battling for control. The demon hardly let him get much leeway and only forced Harry more firmly against the wall.

As Sebastian brushed his lips against Harry's cheek and neck, the wizard gave a whimpering moan right in the demon's ear. He hadn't meant for that to come out, it was just so _wrong _and so _good_.

He felt Sebastian stiffen at the sound, the demon falling still and ceasing all movement before he doubled his attack. Hands grabbed Harry's legs and manipulated them around his waist. As soon as the wizard was completely wrapped around the demon, Sebastian slammed him further against the wall and kissed him vehemently.

It wasn't long before the wall disappeared behind him and Harry found himself freefalling until his back was somehow transported to a mattress.

_Merlin, is this really happening? _

Things could happen fast for humans, but when there was a demon involved, things could go twice as fast. Sharp nails clawed greedily at his skin and sharp teeth bit at Harry's tongue. It felt _good_, but it was also beginning to turn heavy and corrupt. He remembered Sebastian saying that if he had sex with humans, they would hardly walk away intact; they would be completely corrupted.

He could feel the darkness and he felt _dirty_ the more Sebastian touched him and claimed him. The lightness, the purity was muffled and so far from reach. He was choking and drowning in inky blackness.

It felt exhilarating, but he had enough common sense to know that this _couldn't _happen.

"Stop," Harry growled as soon as he was able to get his mouth free. "For Merlin's sake, I thought you ate souls, not humans whole."

"You're enjoying it," the demon whispered evilly, grabbing Harry's hardening member. He braced the majority of his weight on Harry's chest, one forearm pressed against the young man and the other hand preoccupied with a different task entirely. His hair tickled the wizard's cheeks as he gazed down at his prey, fangs exposed in a mocking sort of smile. "Why must humans always deny themselves of what they enjoy?"

"Because we know the consequences," Harry snipped, slapping away the demon's hand on his manhood.

"Do you?" Sebastian breathed with intrigue. "Do tell me what I have up my sleeve."

His automatic response was that Sebastian wanted answers and he was using sexual means to get it. However, this wasn't like the illusions he used with other humans, this was real. The demon had every intention of corrupting him and he seemed almost desperate in his attempts. Slowly, the pieces started to piece themselves together and Harry was filled with sinking dread.

He was… Merlin it was so hard to admit it. He was the demon's bloody _mate._

It explained everything. It explained why Sebastian had been instantly drawn to him, Harry's appealing soul aside. It explained why he had a mark on the back of his neck, a mark Harry suspected was meant as a claim to others. And it explained why Sebastian was more than eager to taint him sexually and completely.

Undertaker's words haunted him. _"As I'm sure you'd prefer being an immortal wizard, as opposed to an immortal demon." _

Maybe the mark on his neck wouldn't turn him into a demon; maybe it _was_ a locator and claim. However, that didn't mean the mark was the first step in the process of turning Harry into a demon. The sexual bond was another step, maybe even the final phase. Harry didn't know demons that well, and this was one time he wished he was an expert.

One thing he did know was that demons couldn't jump alternative timelines like Death and the shinigami. If they could, they couldn't do it easily. If Harry died, Sebastian would have a hell of a time finding him. Considering the scars and the wounds that inflicted Harry's body always disappeared when he was reborn, he had no way of knowing if Sebastian's mark on the back of his neck would be there in his next timeline.

It was why Sebastian had been so gloomy at Undertaker's shop when he found out Harry was a _jumper_. He was desperate to turn Harry into a demon.

Demons were corrupted, depraved. Corruption to Harry meant that his soul would be unredeemable, tainted to the point of shriveled blackness. There would never be a chance to see his loved ones again in Heaven. He would be like a fallen angel with clipped wings, meant to dwell in the depths of hell. Ironic, really. His corrupt soul would have nothing to do with his own actions, but everything to do with the physical contact and exploitation of a demon.

This couldn't happen. He refused to be turned into a demon and he refused to accept the full implications of all of _this_. Realizing his relationship with the demon was a shock to the system. Harry had no time to process it before the demon demanded an answer.

"Has the human finally figured it out?" Sebastian leered.

"It can't happen," Harry replied stiffly.

Crimson eyes narrowed into slits and the atmosphere around the room darkened considerably. "Like hell it won't," he snarled.

Before the butler had any chance of threatening Harry further, two things happened simultaneously. The safeguard he placed around Ciel's bedroom earlier this evening triggered in his mind, a sign of an intruder. Just the same, Sebastian stiffened and his eyes suddenly lightened with fury. The demon glanced at the ceiling, his body slowly inching off Harry.

"Stay here—"

Harry Disapparated before Sebastian could even finish his order, his wand in hand and his pulse racing. As his feet landed in Ciel's bedroom with a _thud_, his wand was already spewing out a string of fire. If it were a wizard intruder, Harry would deal with them later. However, if it was a demon, acting _now _was already too late.

His rope of fire encircled Ciel's bed, and began crisscrossing into the rune that would dispel and keep demons away. After further research, Harry had finally narrowed down which rune was effective. Demons weren't afraid of crosses or rosaries, but when there were other, more substantial symbols combined with Latin phrases, they wanted to steer clear.

A fiery rune, looking almost similar to the monogram of Christ, was encircling Ciel and his bed, expelling the dark energy around his bed. Upon the bed, Ciel gasped, having just awakened at the demon's high-pitched scream. The boy scrambled to his knees, staring wide-eyed at the fiery rune beneath him. For the first time since their acquaintance, Harry looked into both of the boy's eyes, memorized by the glowing purple eye with Sebastian's seal shining bright and strong.

Harry's self-accomplishment could only last so long. He twirled his wand quickly, thinking he could conjure another rune around himself faster than running into the shelter of Ciel's. He was halfway completed before an unrelenting hand grabbed his throat and _squeezed. _The wrist holding his wand abruptly snapped in half and Harry gurgled in agony, unable to breath past the excruciating pain.

"I came here for you, anyway," the demon crowed.

"Harrison!" Ciel hollered, a rare show of emotion. "_Sebastian!_"

There were dark spots behind Harry's eyes, but he could make out his attacker. He had the same glowing eyes as Sebastian, the same sharp fangs, and the same unholy presence. Though, his suffering hardly had to last, as another shape came up behind his assailant.

"_He's mine_," Sebastian hissed lethally, using his sharp nails and puncturing them into the other demon's head.

The hand around Harry's throat loosened before opening up completely. Harry dropped to the floor and inhaled greedily, touching his tender neck and watching as the two demons sparred, dancing around each other with unmatched speed. Harry knew Sebastian had a run in with Undertaker and his death scythe earlier this evening; he was still probably suffering the aftermath. Nonetheless, his movements looked fluid and he hardly allowed his opposition to get the upper hand.

One of the demons, whom Harry identified as the intruder a moment later, was thrown bodily across the room. He'd go straight through the window and he'd alert the other occupants of the manor if they weren't up already. Clearing his mind, Harry waved his palm and the glass disappeared from the windows just seconds before the demon flew through them.

Sebastian, not wanting to give his opponent any rest, sprinted after the flying body and leaped from the window.

Harry slumped to the ground and stared up at the dark ceiling. Subconsciously, he flicked his left hand at the window and the glass reappeared. Being manhandled by two demons tonight certainly wore his body down. His throat was killing him, Sebastian's earlier bite marks were burning, and his wrist was throbbing.

"Harrison…"

"The fire won't burn me," Harry mumbled, lying boldly in the middle of his half-completed rune. The flames were warm as they licked his skin, but they did nothing to burn him. "But I would suggest staying inside your rune, at least until Sebastian comes back with the other demon's head."

"Magic is impressive. I had yet to see the true usefulness behind your power, but this is extremely beneficial. Will this keep any demon out?"

The kid was oddly chipper for being woken up in the middle of the night, by a demon no less. Harry supposed having Sebastian as a central figure in his life would turn him immune to many things. "It should keep any demon out," he responded, thinking of Sebastian. "I don't know how well it would work on a demon who contracted with you."

"You look horrible," Ciel assessed. "When Sebastian comes back he can help heal you."

_Ugh. _As if Harry would ever let that demon touch him again. "I'll just stay here and stand guard just in case Sebastian can't hold the demon back. You go back to bed." His body remained on the ground, hardly moving an inch.

He stared up at the ceiling, feeling oddly unnerved with tonight's revelations; not only about the five murdered wizards, but also the Queen's and the Ministry's possible involvement, and the whole scenario with Sebastian. He really should analyze the situation with Sebastian with a clear mind, but he was too exhausted.

"Your Dark Lord summoned a demon, didn't he?" Ciel's voice came from further away, as the boy had retreated back under his covers. "Things are more complicated."

_You really have no idea. _Harry grunted in response, his eyes becoming heavy with sleep. He would need to tell Ciel about his theory regarding the Queen and the Ministry. After which, he would need to ward the manor completely. This invasion couldn't happen again. There needed to be a safe place where they could retreat to without the threat of their enemies attacking. Warding would be a big project, but Harry would be up for it.

Tomorrow.


	7. Chapter Seven

**7. Chapter Seven**

"It's remarkable, isn't it?" Ciel asked, veiling his interest under a skilled layer of boredom. He placed his head upon his palm and stared at Sebastian's back. "How magic works and how he's capable of doing these things is just incredible. It's a bit unfair that only a select few have the ability."

Finnian, Mey-Rin, Snake, Baldroy, and Tanaka were all absent from the manor. They had orders from Sebastian to find and collect a few odd-end ingredients for Sebastian's _creative _entrée for tonight's dinner. There had been grumbling and suspicious remarks, but they had eventually left the manor. Sebastian would then throw a surprise dinner tonight for the servants of the manor, a type of 'appreciation dinner party'. It would explain why they were forced out of the manor.

The true reason was because Harrison needed to protect the manor with a thing he called _wards_. Ciel wasn't knowledgeable on the subject, as Harrison was never one to sit still for a period of time and explain things, but he did know that it required the manor empty.

Ciel and Sebastian were allowed to stay, of course, only because they were aware of Harrison's status as a wizard. It was fortunate that the servants were absent, as Ciel would have trouble explaining the… warm feelings he was experiencing with Harrison's magic.

Outside, he could see the faint figure of Harrison standing at the perimeter of the manor. While he couldn't see what the wizard was doing, he could feel the warm, protective vibrations sweeping across the expansive manor. Ciel shifted uncomfortably, finding it difficult to remember a time he'd felt so safe and embraced.

"It is impressive a mere human can accomplish such feats," Sebastian replied softly to Ciel's earlier inquiry.

The boy frowned and scrutinized the butler. The man's eyes were sharp and focused, almost obsessive as they watched the wizard from the window. It was becoming painfully obvious that Sebastian was showing signs of his demonic traits more often. He'd gotten so good at acting as an accomplished butler, it was odd to see him relapse.

"You have an unusual attachment to him," Ciel commented matter-of-factly. "He tries to hide it behind high collars and hoods, but I've seen the mark of the Faustian Contract on the back of his neck."

Sebastian looked at Ciel slowly from over his shoulder. "_My _mark," he corrected with a hint of ownership. "The mark on his body is _my_ mark, not a Faustian Contract." He smiled sweetly. "Don't feel threatened, My Lord. You are my one and only master. I never contract with more than one at a time."

Ciel straightened abruptly and gazed coldly at Sebastian. "You're slipping," he insulted. "That's hardly a way for a butler to interact with his master. What if someone were to overhear?" He had initiated the discussion first, yes, but he had never expected Sebastian to respond, especially with such candidness.

They never discussed Sebastian's demon status in much depth. Ciel never wanted to know.

Sebastian's eyes crinkled into a pleasant smile. "Of course, master." He bowed at the waist. "Forgive me." Once he straightened, the man pressed a gloved hand at the edge of the table. "Have you finished your Latin translations?"

Ciel continued to scowl at the butler. He hoped Sebastian never forgot what he promised to accomplish in return for his soul. Those whom had humiliated the Phantomhive name would be prosecuted. Briefly, he wondered if what Harrison said this morning was true. When he heard Harrison inform him of the disconcerting problem involving Sebastian's wandering interests, Ciel had dismissed it.

However, he was slowly starting to see the truths behind that claim. Harrison _was _the source behind Sebastian's lack of concentration.

He gazed down at the paragraph, his mind still upset. "I don't know if I trust Harrison," Ciel started casually. "Would you be against disposing of him?" He watched the butler's expression closely, disappointed when he saw nothing change.

"If that is what you wish, then so be it."

"He's still useful," Ciel backpedaled carefully, dancing away from the topic for now. "I just find it hard to believe the Queen is behind these noblemen murders," he said, referring to the conversation he had with Harrison over breakfast. "It's too complex when she could have just used brute force. It's not her usual style and I hardly think those five noblemen were connected to a bigger conspiracy."

"Then why don't we look into it then?"

Ciel flashed the butler a look. He knew that tone. Sebastian was challenging him. "Seeing as Her Majesty may have it out for my head, Harrison suggested we shouldn't dig any further into their deaths. He got a message from the Minister of Magic this morning. Harrison will be spending more time in the Wizarding world."

That seemed to pique Sebastian's interest and only served to give more weight to Harrison's claim this morning. It was upsetting.

"Oh?"

The young boy curled his hands into fists at the demon's response before calming. "For all the parties involved, it's safer if we remain ignorant to the Queen's and the Minister's ploys." Ciel maintained a bored tone. "When Harrison catches and kills the Dark Lord, he will deliver him to me. Together, we will go to the Queen and analyze the situation from there." He shrugged, trying not to underestimate Harrison's skills in regards to his ability to catch the Dark Lord.

"And this is the reason for his retreat to the Wizarding world?"

"He's going to work alongside Minister Brown. He didn't tell me outright, but I have my suspicions that Harrison will look into the noblemen's deaths on his end—in the Wizarding world."

A sly smile spread across Sebastian's face and Ciel instantly knew that he had fallen into a trap. "In brief, Harrison has conveniently convinced you to stay swaddled in your blankets of wool and cotton while he does the precarious tasks. You get to claim the prize and he gets to slither away." The lithe figure leaned against Ciel's desk. "My, doesn't that sound like a parental thing to do? Protect the _child _and take care of things himself?"

Ciel glared heatedly at the butler. "I don't need a parental figure, and I hardly see Harrison treating me as such. I happen to agree with his proposal. If anyone would have connections to what the Minister and Queen have been up to, it's those five wizards and witches who died in the noblemen's manor. Harrison is the only one qualified to find those answers. It would be counterproductive keeping him here and slowing him down."

"The Muggle noblemen may be the key in the end," Sebastian countered smoothly. "We'd be sending him after his own tail if those wizards had no connections at all."

"I understand that," Ciel agreed. "However, Harrison and I both agreed that we would leave the Queen's dirty work alone. I don't want her to know I'm pursuing the murders in that direction. I will tell her I found a powerful connection in the Wizarding world, assuming she knows about it. Not only will I be able to give her the Dark Lord _'responsible' _for the nobleman's deaths, but she may see me in a new light if she knows I have a wizard connection."

Sebastian gave another pleasant smile. "Ah, you're using Harrison for your own means."

"Isn't that what I do with you?" Ciel countered with a smug grin. "He certainly has no qualms about it." He regarded Sebastian. "Do you?"

"What a silly question." Sebastian tapped Ciel's Latin paragraph with a meaningful finger. "Finish your translation."

He smiled twistedly and picked up his fountain pen. While they had agreed to refrain from confronting the Queen, Harrison and Ciel planned to act accordingly. If Harrison found proof of the Queen's dirty work, Harrison could dispose of the woman from behind the scenes. After all, Ciel didn't intend to work for a woman who was constantly out for his blood. He had to protect himself and his own assets.

It was every man for himself and Ciel had the tools to flourish. If he had a powerful wizard and demon in his possession, they needed to be put to good use.

It was possible Harrison was even an _immortal _wizard. What the Undertaker divulged during their brief meeting was enough to stir Ciel's speculation and interest. It was intriguing how someone could defy death and jump timelines. It would be an impressive trait to possess. He had questions regarding the extent of Harrison's gift, but he was bred properly enough to know when and when not to pry.

Suddenly, a bright light tore Ciel from his translations. He stared out the window in wonderment, watching in unveiled surprise as a curtain of gold began to move its way toward the manor. It bathed the gardens in a heavenly light, turning everything a startling shade of gold. The pathways, the grass, the trees, they were all doused with a magical luminosity, bringing everything to life.

Ciel stood up, watching as the shimmering curtain of gold hit the manor and proceeded to absorb through the walls and floorboards. He took a step back with a mixture of uncertainty and wonderment as the curtain entered his office and slowly moved toward him. Sebastian was the first to be bathed in gold, the butler's expression becoming tense and he closed his eyes.

Seconds later, Ciel realized why Sebastian had closed himself off. As he tentatively leaned into the curtain of gold, Ciel gasped as the sheer emotion bathed his insides and shed light in the farthest depths of his soul, depths he had thought tarnished long ago. A demon would have difficulty standing in such pure, wholesome emotion and warmness. Even Ciel found it uncomfortable at first and he was only a human with a jaded outlook on life.

However, the uncomfortable sentiments soon vanished and Ciel's barriers crumbled.

He'd only known Harrison for the briefest of times, but he could sense the wizard's presence in this curtain of pureness. Somehow, he knew he was feeling Harrison's interpretation of love, of protection. For such a world-weary human like Harrison, it came to a shock for Ciel that there was still so much intensity in his ability to love. However, the word 'intensity' seemed much too weak to describe _this. _

With his eyes closed and his mind and body open to the ward's influence, he could hear the ghost of laughter, of childish laughter. It was high-pitched and full of extreme excitement.

Harrison was imagining his son, Ciel realized. In the shower of love, there was an acrimonious tang of bittersweet sadness.

Shadows danced behind his eyes, shadows of a child running and a figure chasing after it and of a woman's caress. Feelings of loyalty, braveness, and unselfish sacrifice washed through him. They were emotions he'd never experienced before, far mature behind his own mentality, but he was feeling and experiencing them through Harrison.

The Phantomhive manor stirred. As if answering the magic, the very foundations of the house came alive with a hearty groan and curled its own memories around Ciel, memories he'd always wanted to suppress. Like Harrison's son, Ciel saw himself as a child running alongside his dog and trying to outrun his father. He saw his mother's angelic face as she read to him before bed.

Endearing caresses and embraces were plentiful as a child and he relived them all. He wasn't magical by any means, but he could _feel _the manor grow a personality, a maternal and nurturing personality. It relived the memories alongside him and solidified a protective embrace around him. Nothing would harm him in this house.

'_Nothing,' _the manor seemed to whisper back in reassurance.

All too soon, the gold curtain fell and Ciel was released from its hold. He felt cold, and painfully aware of the emptiness he had drowned himself with since his parents' passing.

He collapsed on the chair behind his desk, placing a secure hand over his face. "Leave me, Sebastian," he ordered hoarsely.

The demon was already out the door.

**Deliver Us**

It was a rather well played and fancy party for something that had been planned at the last minute. Although, he couldn't be too surprised, considering a demon had been involved with planning it. The words 'Appreciation Dinner' was written elegant across a gold and white banner and the dining hall had been turned into a banquet of sorts with plentiful finger foods and beverages.

It had been a decent rouse to get the servants out of the manor for the day as Harry constructed the wards.

Ciel's fiancé, Elizabeth Midford, had also made an appearance. She seemed rather clingy and high maintenance, especially next to Ciel's withdrawn and moody disposition. In the end, Harry decided she wasn't too bad for the boy, especially the further the evening went on. She seemed to grow more levelheaded and she _did _conduct herself like all the other noblewomen. Oddly enough, he noticed she carried herself like a skilled fighter, both confident and strong.

Perhaps, just like the rest of this odd household, she conducted a façade. It didn't escape his notice that the other servants, especially the maid, the cook, and the gardener were a bit _off_. They were friendly enough, but Sebastian had to have picked them for a reason. It wasn't his kindness that made him decide to hire them. They had to offer _something _to the famed Phantomhive name.

The cook bashfully mentioned a few times that he tended to burn a few of his dishes. Any sort of error like in an established household would result in termination. It also clued Harry in that Sebastian was the head of _everything_, from cooking, gardening, tutoring, and serving… everything relied on Sebastian to get things done right.

He sipped at his beverage and watched Ciel from the corner of his eyes. Pleasantly, he noted that the Phantomhive manor was humming protectively around the boy. Good.

This morning, he decided to take a chance with the wards and do something a little differently. Instead of constructing a normal ward that expelled intruders out, he decided to enchant the manor and make it grow a personality. Of course, that had resulted in Harry pouring out his emotions and his memories, a very difficult thing to accomplish for him, but in the end, it had worked.

He wanted the manor to view Ciel as parents would their own child. The manor alone would choose who to kick out and who to allow entrance to. It would do its own sort of protection if it felt Ciel was threatened, such as windows breaking or floorboards caving in. It had a magical personality now. Other Muggles may see it as a 'haunted' house, but in the end, it would protect Ciel and his descendants with everything in its power.

"A miraculous stunt you pulled off this morning," Sebastian commented slyly, sliding beside him.

Harry grunted in response. "I had a hell of a time convincing the manor to view you as a welcomed guest and not a predator."

"Convincing?" Sebastian reiterated.

Green eyes rolled over to the demon next to him. "Of course. The floor which you are standing on is alive, enchanted, if you will. She sees Ciel as her responsibility." He gave a twisted smile. "Just a word of warning, I wouldn't try consuming his soul in this manor. You'd be surprised at the manor's abilities."

Sebastian hardly seemed perturbed and only attentive. Harry turned back to survey the guests. With the events from last night, and his duty to ward the manor, Harry hardly had time to ponder over the revelations regarding Sebastian. However, he _did _have enough time to think it over early this morning when he had a productive conversation with Ciel. Productive in the sense that he was able to practice his manipulation.

He was able to plant seeds of doubt in the boy's mind regarding Sebastian's wandering loyalty. He didn't feel too bad about using Ciel to get what he wanted, considering the boy was doing the same thing to him. Moreover, the things he had planned wouldn't harm the boy in anyway. It would only affect Sebastian.

While he hadn't truly thought over his status of Sebastian's mate, he did come to the conclusion that he didn't want to be a demon. It was a wild hope that he would someday be reunited with his family and friends. However small that chance was, Harry refused to give it away and become tainted and fallen. Moreover, Sebastian had a wild idea that he _could _turn Harry into a demon, but he may not be able to accomplish it. Either that, or there would be unpleasant circumstances.

The best course of action was distance. And Ciel was the only one who could truly grant that.

"You never asked about the demon from last night."

Harry offered a crooked grimace. "I considered asking, but then I thought you'd tell me anyway."

"It was a familiar."

That snagged Harry's attention. He turned his back on the small gathering and gave Sebastian his full attention. That seemed to arouse the demon's courage to step closer, the tension between them tangible and hard to ignore. Outwardly, the demon was pleasant, professional, and so _human_. His eyes were the only source of his primitive nature and they were positively bright as they focused on Harry.

"A familiar?" Harry repeated doubtfully, glancing down at his cup to break the connection with the demon. "You mean like a cat or toad companion to a witch?"

Sebastian chuckled quietly, mockingly. "That is what the humans believe and the origins do hold some truth. Witches were considered the contractors who summoned demons. The more high-ranking the demon is, the more legions they have under their control in Hell."

"Legions," Harry repeated again, this time in growing unease. Of course, demons would have their own personal army, wouldn't they? "And how many legions of demons do you have under your command?" Legions. The definition of _one _legion was 3,000 to 6,000 members. That was the Muggle definition, anyway. He wondered if it held the same truth to the demonic underworld.

The butler laughed merrily, drawing the attention of the guests. "A few," he responded haphazardly. "But that is not the point. Usually, when a high-ranking demon is called for a contract, they don't bring any lower ranking demons with them. If they do, sometimes they assign them in animal form to the contractor for added protection or sometimes they just keep their demonic form and run errands."

Harry grabbed a cupcake and took a large, considering bite. He chewed it under Sebastian's watchful gaze, pondering over the recent turn of events. Last night was only another test. Whoever summoned a demon was being extremely cautious and sending out lower ranking demons to test the waters. It sounded like their Dark Lord, who was just as cautious. But why would the Dark Lord summon a demon? To be on par with Harry? Was that what the Dark Lord wanted to see the night of the magic show attack?

He'd said he'd gotten what he came for. Harry only assumed the Dark Lord wanted to see what kind of company he kept, the demon in particular.

"Harrison, was it? Professor Harrison?"

Harry quirked an eyebrow at the title. It took him a second to remember his cover and he nodded at the man who had addressed him. "Yes," he said, his mouth full of cupcake. He cleared his throat and swallowed, much to the disdain of the more proper spectators, mainly Sebastian and Ciel.

The cook, Baldroy, was the one who had spoken to him. The other servants had gone quiet and were looking at Harry in a considering light. Apparently, Baldroy was the more courageous one out of the bunch. No one had approached him earlier or attempted to strike up any sort of conversation.

"I'm Baldroy, the Phantomhive chef." The man was an American with blond hair and blue-grey eyes. A cigarette was dangling from his mouth and oddly enough, a pair of goggles was hung loosely around his neck. "It's nice to meet you."

Good manners, Harry noted as he shook hands with the man. A little rough around the edges, but someone Harry could see himself getting along with. "The pleasure is all mine," Harry crooned with a bright grin. He could keep up appearances just as well as all these people combined. "You can call me Harry." He glanced at the younger servants behind Baldroy, noticing they were too reserved to introduce themselves.

"Mey-Rin." He pointed at the shy, bespectacled maid. "Finnian, the gardener." The boy waved. "And there is… Snake. He's the footman… a little antisocial at times…" Baldroy trailed off as he motioned to the silver-haired boy who was near the corner, talking quietly with a snake around his shoulders. "And then there is Tanaka, the house steward."

Really, it was an odd bunch. Harry looked at Tanaka, the old man who was quietly sipping a mug of tea before turning his attention toward _Snake_, whom he'd never seen before. The boy was murmuring quietly to the snake and glancing over at Harry every now and then, revealing the few scales around his face. Harry recoiled, not frightened but unnerved. He'd seen one snake-man too many in his lifetime.

"Well," Harry started, "it looks like I'll fit right in." It was said with a bit of irony and Sebastian was the only one who would pick it up.

"You look a bit young to be a tutor," Mey-Rin murmured quietly.

"Ah." Harry rubbed at his hair, causing the strands to stick up straight. "I get that a lot." He winked at her, pleased when she blushed. "I excel at many things, but World History is my specialty. I had a good professor growing up."

"Who was your professor?"

The attention was on him from every angle of the room. Harry offered a meek smile, still hating the spotlight more than ever. "Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore…" Harry trailed off nodding in the distance, pleasantly ignoring the dumbfounded stares and the heavy silence across the room. "Good man, good man." He sipped at his cup. "Odd man. He had a beard down to his— his groin and he always tucked it in his belt. Looked off his rocker, but he was as sharp as a nail."

Baldroy raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You just described the typical _warlock_. Merlin ring a bell?"

"Warlock?" Harry exclaimed in extreme amusement. Smart man. "He wasn't near Merlin's level, but he _did _teach me a few magic tricks."

The maid was the one to jump on that first. "Can we see some magic tricks?" Next to her, Baldroy grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest in incredulity.

Harry smiled wickedly across the room at Ciel. When the boy registered Harry's attention, he scowled. "Of course I could provide a little entertainment." He set his crystal glass on the ground. The servants leaned forward in anticipation as Harry lifted his foot over it. He then stomped his foot down, enjoying their muffled gasps as they thought he shattered it.

He then lifted the sole of his shoe, revealing the empty ground and the missing glass. "Sebastian?"

All eyes turned to the butler who was now holding the glass of punch with his pristine, white glove. The girls squealed, namely Elizabeth who had run from Ciel's side to join the group. The males all tried to contain themselves but the gardener, Finnian, was unafraid to show his amazement and appreciation. Baldroy was muttering something akin to 'distraction' and Ciel was unimpressed with the parlor tricks.

"Can you do more?" Elizabeth begged.

Harry dug into his pockets and pulled out a tiny string of yarn and a single needle. He reached toward Elizabeth, showing her the string before placing it behind her ear. As he withdrew his hand, he transfigured the string into a single red rose. "A beautiful rose for a beautiful lady."

Elizabeth gasped in admiration and held the rose delicately.

"_Ladies_," Harry corrected himself as he did the same thing to Mey-Rin. As he pulled back the long-stemmed rose for her, he delighted in her honest approbation. He presented it to her with a low bow.

"Oh _please_," Baldroy groaned.

Before he could add his two cents in the matter, Harry grabbed his cigarette from his mouth and wandlessly duplicated it into two. He smirked at the man's speechlessness, taking pleasure in shoving the two death sticks into the man's open mouth.

"Now that is useful," the chief complimented, pleased. "That's enough for me. I'm impressed!"

Harry rounded on the last boy, finding that his smile grew more natural. He placed his palms on his thighs and leaned toward the younger boy, staring into the child's eager eyes. There were shadows in the boy's eyes, a sign of a dark past or a struggling childhood. And yet, there was so much brightness left in that gaze, a sort of innocence still kept. "Give me your hands," Harry instructed gently.

He pulled off the ribbon from around his neck and cupped it in the boy's outstretched hands. "Make sure you keep your hands together." He cupped his own hands over the calloused fingers and transformed the ribbon.

The boy's eyes grew wide and he gave a stuttering gasp. Slowly, he opened his hands to reveal a white dove. Such easy transfiguration, but to Muggles, it was a delightful act. The sounds of appreciation and shock were enough to amuse Harry. He could complain all he wanted about the magic shows he'd used to do, but in the end, it was still fun to show Muggles a taste of magic.

Finnian gently stroked the dove, grinning ear to ear as he released it.

"How about Sebastian?" Mey-Rin inquired innocently. "And the master?"

Harry growled lowly in his throat as he turned to an expectant demon.

"A cat," the butler requested pleasantly.

"You already have a cat, you bloody bastard," Harry reprimanded low enough for only the demon to hear. He suddenly sighed dramatically and placed a hand to his forehead. "I'm afraid I'm all out of tricks for today. In fact, I think it's time for me to retire for the night. It was a pleasure meeting all of you. If you'll excuse me." He bowed once again in the midst of their farewells and quickly escaped the dining hall.

As the darkness embraced him, Harry slumped his shoulders and allowed the weariness to line his face. His magic was still spent from constructing the wards and his emotions were frayed and tired. The wrist that the demon had broken last night was throbbing, his sloppy healing only mending the break but not the strain.

"We never did get a chance to finish our conversation from last night."

Harry grimaced, feeling the darkness Sebastian exuded as it curled gleefully around him. "I thought I made it pretty clear the conversation was over," he replied smartly. A single finger pressed against his shoulder. The demon's strength was enough to stop Harry abruptly and push him against the wall. His heart thumped in his throat as Sebastian descended before him. "I'm not letting you turn me into a demon."

Sebastian smiled and pressed his lower half against Harry's groin. "Did I say that?" he asked with mock astonishment. "I don't think I said anything of the sort."

He hadn't, but Harry rightfully assumed that was Sebastian's goal. "If I remember correctly, you want to get in my pants. Last night, you said that you can't have sex with humans because it completely corrupts them and they wouldn't walk away intact."

Crimson eyes glittered. "Mm. But nowhere did I say it would turn you into a demon." His fingers ghosted across Harry's exposed neck, paying special attention to the bruises the unidentified demon had left last night. "Why don't we _try _it just this once and see where it takes us?" He then found the chain around Harry's neck and pulled at it, the rune Harry had drawn on Ciel's floor last night now transfigured into a metal pendant.

Harry allowed the burning touch and the friction between their groins, only because he knew where this was going. And he was _ecstatic _to get one over on Sebastian.

"Haven't I already told you that these things won't stop me?" Sebastian inquired. He lifted the pendant and licked it, revealing his immunity to the symbol. His eyes challenged Harry's over the top of it. "Nothing will ever stop me from getting to you."

A victorious smirk lifted Harry's mouth and Sebastian stopped short. "Are you certain about that? _Nothing_?"

Sebastian dropped the pendant and abruptly pushed away from Harry. Down the hall, Ciel stood, his face twisted in something akin to disgust and anger. "You were right, Harrison," Ciel whispered. "Sebastian has grown distracted from our overall goal and I'm afraid his loyalty is beginning to shift."

Harry could try to avoid Sebastian all he wanted, but in the end, there was only one way he could succeed in eluding him and that answer came in the form of a thirteen-year-old boy.

Sebastian stared at Ciel before looking back at a smug Harry. Slowly, the demon began to see where this was going. "I am far from distracted," he tried to persuade the Earl. "It has not escaped me that I am to find those that betrayed the Phantomhive name, just as I am responsible for helping you with the Queen's orders. Nothing has changed, master, my loyalties especially."

He could try to dig himself out of this, but Harry had gotten to Ciel first. All it had taken were a few words about Sebastian's unnatural attraction to him and his lapse in composure. And who knew, Harry had said, it might even be possible that Sebastian would cancel his contract with Ciel if he grew too interested in Harry.

Ciel unwound his eye patch and revealed the mark of the Faustian Contract. Sebastian lifted a lip and bared a fang, having enough sense to know where this was going.

"Unless in my presence, you _will _stay away from Harrison. You will not touch him or talk to him. You will not seek him out if he steps outside this manor. You will remain inside this manor unless I specify otherwise. That is an _order_, Sebastian." Ciel then turned to look at Harry. "You will return on occasion? And we will meet at our assigned location? Your bedroom here is always available for you should you need it."

"Our earlier plans are still set in stone," Harry replied sweetly.

Demons did not have loyalties. However, demons followed two aesthetics. One; their masters' orders were absolute, and two; they obeyed those orders while keeping their contracts. These two aesthetics were the reason for most demons' actions. There was no faith or loyalty that prompted them to act otherwise. Demons were highly afraid of breaking their aesthetics, that being why they often value their masters' lives above their own.

And Harry played on that and took advantage of it.

As Ciel walked away, proud and straight, Sebastian stared at Harry. "You used my contract against me," he murmured. "How very… devious of you."

"I got the idea from your refusal to take Undertaker's deal." Harry hooked his fingers into his pockets and flashed a blinding smile. "Your meal is pretty special to you, isn't it, Sebastian? And you must be starving. There is no way you would disobey your master's orders." He adopted a smoldering look, one Sebastian always used on him. "Pity for you, _pet_."

The look he received from Sebastian was purely demonic and Harry smirked victoriously in the face of it. He brushed past Sebastian, the demon unable to do anything but stand back and watch as Harry retreated from the hallway.

"_You'll regret this." _

It was Sebastian, no doubt about it, but it hadn't been said aloud. It was like a whisper in his mind, one that could be mistaken for his own, internal voice. Harry hesitated just briefly at the malevolence coming from the presence at his back. Right now, Harry was safe from Sebastian's wrath because of Ciel's contract. However, if Sebastian found a way around it, Harry accepted the fact that the demon would come after him at full force.

He would need to keep his guard up and keep an eye on out. Sebastian was one thing, but a vengeful Sebastian was an entirely different matter.


	8. Chapter Eight

**8. Chapter Eight**

_Caw. _

Harry stiffened and flashed a murderous glower at the crow perched on the building beside him. The sky was dim and cloudy, hardly the beautiful blue it had been the day before. The wind was a bit on the strong side and Harry had to tighten his cloak around his body in order to shield himself from the lingering winter chill. It didn't help matters that ever since he left the Phantomhive manor, he'd noticed the crows.

At first, he thought it was just a coincidence. They had been silent, the sound of their wings the only sign of their presence. However, when he began taking notice of the unusual amount of birds, they began _cawing_, laughing. It was extremely unsettling, especially because they were bloody _big_ and not just the averaged size crow.

"That's good," Harry hissed under his breath. "Keep giving me clues to your true identity, Crow Man."

It had to be Sebastian summoning them. Doubtless of the culprit behind it, the crows' presence sent chills down his spine. Some of them were demonic. They had to be. A regular crow wouldn't ignite such vulnerable emotions inside Harry.

_Caw. _

As he stared at the single crow on the roof, a second joined it and then a third. They flapped their wings in agitation and cawed down at Harry. In response, the wizard threw up his hood and continued down the cobblestoned street.

Somehow, Sebastian was able to follow him into the Wizarding world, though the number of birds had lessened considerably. Harry wondered if the crows following him were the familiars Sebastian had mentioned yesterday. The demon said he had _a few _legions underneath him, surely he'd be able to conjure a few crow demons to follow Harry.

It was also a sign of Sebastian rebellion. Conjuring low-ranking demons to follow Harry was Sebastian's first step in finding a loophole in Ciel's orders.

Harry didn't want the other shoe to drop.

He strolled down the streets of Diagon Alley, casting a suspicious gaze around the marketplace. It was oddly empty, almost as empty as the streets had been during his original timeline back home during Voldemort's second rise. Store patrons gazed out the windows of their shops, their faces washed grey and grim. The few shoppers on the streets had hoods drawn and their wands positioned up their sleeves. Cautious looks were thrown over their shoulders, keeping watch just in case the Dark Lord chose to strike again.

Things were much worse in the Wizarding world than they were in the Muggle world. There had been yet another attack yesterday, this time the amount of casualties exceeding over fifty. And yet, the Ministry still hadn't captured a single follower of the Dark Lord. While there were some casualties from the Dark Lord's army, any chance at recovering their identities had been lost when the body had self-combusted.

This Dark Lord was eliminating any sort of connections, quite effortlessly too.

Minister Brown had owled Harry yesterday morning and had invited him to work with him directly. He commented that he still didn't have an answer from the Auror Department regarding the five wizard casualties in the Muggle world, but promised to get back to him as soon as he did. The Minister also mentioned wanting to discuss the fiasco from the other night, regarding the magic show and the casualties of so many Muggles.

Harry had owled him back and reassured him they would meet in the near future, conveniently leaving the time and date of his arrival a blank. He had other things to do today, things that he'd rather the Minister be in the dark about.

The immortal teen entered Ollivanders Wand Shop, lowering his hood when the clerk behind the counter eyed him warily. Once his adolescent features were revealed, the man relaxed.

"Can I help you, young man?"

"Yes." Emerald eyes roamed the shelves, his lips quirking at the familiar sight. It wasn't Ollivanders without _his _Ollivander running the shop, but the familiarity was enough to warm his soul. "I've recently taken a job at the Ministry in the Law Enforcement Department," he fibbed easily.

The Ollivander in this time was a brunette and a lot younger than Harry's Ollivander. "You look so young." He smiled patiently and stepped out from behind the counter. "I can't say that I remember selling your wand. You must have gone to some other—"

"I was tutored by my parents in France. I never got the chance to attend Hogwarts," Harry explained hastily. "But I heard about your shop's reputation once I took my position at the Ministry. It's actually the reason why I'm here." He dug in his cloak and pulled out the photograph of the young witch who had died in one of the Muggle attacks. "They say you remember every wand you've ever sold. I wanted to know if you could identify this woman."

He handed the photograph over to the wand maker, watching as the man paled and exhaled heavily.

"Rosa Quileute." He swallowed thickly. "I hadn't known she passed away. She was a very bright witch, a wand meant for Potions."

"I assume she's pureblood… or at least half-blood." Harry took the photograph back from Ollivander and stared down at the blonde witch and her serene features. She appeared pureblood and her surname sounded rather aristocratic, but that didn't mean anything. "Does she have family living in Britain?"

Ollivander frowned and shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't say. She never married, but her parents are still alive, I believe."

Tucking the photograph back into his cloak pocket, Harry offered the man a firm nod. "Thank you, Mr. Ollivander." He raised his hood once more and swept from the shop before the man could stutter out an inquiry to his name.

On the stairs, he stopped briefly to look at the crow that was perched on the railing. The black bird cocked his head to the side and gave a hoarse _caw. _Harry stared into the eyes, feeling a small prick of fear that only a demon could ignite. "Tell your master to fuck off," Harry hissed in the bird's face.

_Caw! _The bird laughed wildly, flapping its wings in Harry's face and taking flight to circle the sky above him. A few others joined in on the fun and were currently drawing attention from the sparse spectators on the streets. The vendors hugged their merchandise closer and flashed Harry a few suspicious looks. The customers on the streets took one look at the crows and fled to safety, viewing them as omens. And rightfully so, Harry supposed.

"Odd creatures, albeit smart to a certain degree."

Harry turned his head quickly, spying a man in a pure white cloak and blond hair that could rival the sun's rays. The man, at least in his late thirties, looked from the crows to Harry. The younger wizard was taken aback at how pure and blue those eyes were as they gazed at Harry, _through _Harry. On edge, Harry slid his wand from his sleeve and gazed coolly back at the odd man.

It could be a demon, the high-ranking demon that Sebastian had hinted at yesterday. Demons tended to take on beautiful or handsome forms, at least alluring enough to bring a false sense of security to humans.

The man's eyes dropped automatically down to Harry's wand and smiled thinly. "My, a wand made of elder. Is that right?" His periwinkle blue eyes gazed at Ollivander's shop from over Harry's shoulder. "Mr. Ollivander would be tickled if he knew what kind of wand you wield. It is said that 'only a highly unusual person will find their perfect match with an elder wand. And on the rare occasion when such a pairing occurs, it may be taken as certain that the witch or wizard in question is marked out for a special destiny'."

Harry lifted his chin and smirked ironically. "Who are you?"

"You can call me _Michael_." The man smiled, showing off his brilliant white teeth. "A master of many things Muggle and magic."

If he didn't look so natural and handsome, Harry might have thought that he was a relative of Gilderoy Lockhart. Michael, though… it was a biblical name and one with all different sorts of underlying meanings. It could be the man's real name or one he had picked out himself. Either way, Harry didn't care.

"Well, Michael, thank you for that lesson in elder wandlore." Harry nodded to the man and began to descend the rest of the stairs.

Just as he made a move to escape to the Wizarding directory to track down Rosa's parents, a hand stopped him on the shoulder. He turned quickly, pointing his wand at the man. In response, Michael took a step backward, raising his hands in mock defense.

"I mean no harm." The man hadn't wiped off his smug grin. It only seemed to grow wider with Harry's bold hostility. "But you _are _destined for special things, you know. You have much power at your fingertips." He pointed at Harry's wand hand. "You need just _ask_."

Unsettled with the growing volume of the demon-crows and the man's behavior, Harry tossed his head in impatience. "What? You're not only a master at wandlore, but you can also see into the future?"

The man dressed in pristine white laughed merrily and gave a bow. "I can see into many pasts and many futures."

Immediately, Harry cast a privacy ward around them before his shock got the best of him. "Death."

Michael, or commonly known as _Death_, chuckled lowly and lowered further into his bow. "In one of my many forms, mind you." Through the fall of golden hair, his blue eyes pierced Harry. "Though, I do prefer my angelic, or rather humanoid form in public. I don't know if you know this, but humans don't take to walking skeletons."

"I had no idea," was all Harry could spit out, his fury too great.

Death laughed merrily and straightened from his bow. "My, cat got your tongue, Harry? I had come up with several comebacks to your furious and predicted insults. None of which are coming out of your mouth right now. Pity. It did take me awhile to formulate witty rebuttals. One hundred years, to be exact."

Harry had so much to say to Death, so much expectations, none of which included Death to have a personality like _this._ Death had caused him so much grief and suffering, Harry hated him with every fiber of his being. Yet, the man –creature—acted so inane. It shouldn't have surprised him, considering many of the shinigamis acted the same, Undertaker especially.

While his rebirth was always a murky fog, Harry did know that Death was never like this in their brief interactions. Death was far more solemn and serious. In Harry's memories, he faintly remembered pleading with Death to release him, but Death always responded with the same sorrow-filled answer. Though, Harry couldn't remember the exact words.

"What do you _want_?" Harry hissed darkly. Death had never approached him. _Ever. _He had questions, so many questions, but his stubbornness got in the way. He didn't _want _to acknowledge anything from Death, and that included answers.

"To remind you," Death replied, suddenly losing all mirth and cloaking himself with grim resolve. "To remind you that you are my master and all you need to do bend your neck and _ask_. I may not be able to grant you everything you wish, but I will try my best." He leaned closer to Harry. "This universe will bring you a different prospective of eternity and the power you truly wield. You will look into the eyes of humanity and wonder how you could ever be associated with such a devastating, sad race."

Harry bowed his head and exhaled lowly at the warning. Nonetheless, his mind quickly brought him back to the most important topic. "All I want is to be rid of the Hallows and be reunited with my family."

"That, I cannot grant you."

Green eyes lightened with rage. "Why not?" he demanded sharply. "You made them. You—"

"I did not create them," Death interrupted with dark humor. "That fairytale you heard is not true."

"Then who made them?"

"The three brothers." The angelic-looking man smiled grimly. "It is very similar to the story you've heard, only far uglier and haunting than three simple wizards cheating _death_. They all competed against each other, quite explicitly so. The three brothers all desired something different, yet in the end, their common goal was the same."

"Immortality," Harry supplied menacingly. He was reluctant to engage Death in a conversation longer than a few words, but this was something he had to know.

"You'd be surprised at how many humans desire immortality, or more specifically, fear mortality. The more power-hungry ones strive for eternal bliss their whole lives and never realize that the life they have been granted with has slipped through their fingers." Death held up his hand, for a moment the fleshy fingers turning into skeletal hands. "In the end, even you and I will walk hand-in-hand to the afterlife. Everything must die, Harry."

"You're referring to the Apocalypse."

"You and I will be the last ones standing," Death agreed.

Harry looked into those blue eyes, drowning in sudden realization. "There _is _an end."

Death reached out and touched Harry's chest, the fingers pressing against his ribcage solid bone. "No three wizards, no matter how powerful they are, can create three objects that will grant total immortality when joined together. They had help from an entity that had no right creating such powerful objects."

"A demon," Harry guessed in wary amusement.

"Yes. The demon wanted to devour the three brothers' souls. He made three objects that would grant immortality when combined properly. However, the three brothers could never stand accepting that only one of them would be the Master of Death. You are jumping different alternative universes, pasts and futures. Some deal with different outcomes of the brothers, most dealing with one killing the other or both. I cannot erase the Hallows from history, I cannot—"

"But the books and the tales… I can't find Beedle the Bard's books or any record of the Hallows anywhere—"

"Because you're in a different timeline," he replied patiently. "During your original timeline, the _Tale of the Three Brothers_ was published into a fairytale for children. But who says that it was ever recorded in this alternative universe? Who says Beedle the Bard ever took the path in becoming an author? There are many different alternatives that you haven't yet considered."

Unsettled, Harry glanced around at Diagon Alley and toward the sparse shoppers. Above, the crows had settled on the rooftops, their numbers multiplied and oddly silent. Harry knew they couldn't hear because of the ward he had placed up, but they were watching intently.

"So there will always be Hallows." He turned back to Death, who had been watching the crows just as well. "No matter how buried they might be, they will always be in the timelines I travel to—"

"Not necessarily," Death smiled brightly, gaining a sliver of merriment back. "In some timelines, the three brothers may have never contracted with the devil. In that case, there would just be three remarkable items that possessed rare abilities. Or perhaps they were never capable of creating the ring, the cloak, or the wand."

Death threw up a hand and reached towards the heavens. "One single event can cause a ripple effect, Harry. There are thousands upon thousands of different alternative universes out there. You cannot rule out anything when you travel to a new time. It's what's so fun being me… and you."

Harry glowered at the figure before him. He didn't like the fact that nothing was set in stone, that things were so unexplainable. It was pure chance that he would be thrown into a time with or without the Hallows. "Then that means there can be another Master of Death out there."

Death's smile froze as he stared up at the sky, his whole being turning dim. "No. That title is reserved for you alone, no matter which dimension you travel to." He dropped his arm and took a step closer to Harry. "You see, the demon that contracted with the three brothers didn't have the power to grant total immortality. No one can grant such a thing. Instead, he did the only thing he could get away with."

Harry took a step back as Death took another forward.

"The Master of Death is tied to _me_." Death chuckled and grabbed Harry's shoulder. "Your soul is tied to mine. Your fate is directly tied to mine. We are two sides of the same coin, Harry. It's why you are unable to die, simply because I do not die."

The words were… unsettling to say the least. "There is no way around this? Contracting with another demon—"

"Will not work," Death declared. "What's done is done. You are the first and only one who has successfully mastered the Hallows." He reared away and gazed off into the distance with a wistful expression. "Many came close, but no one wanted to _embrace _me like you did. That is a rather sore subject for me, you know. Many see me and try to run the opposite direction. It's why I admire you so much, Harry. You looked me in the eye and _smiled_."

Harry stood there, finding no amusement in the raving. He wondered why he had to be a hero all the time. He wondered what would have happened if he hadn't sacrificed himself for the war with Voldemort. If he had been a bit more selfish, he wouldn't have been in this position.

Through lowered lashes, he gazed at Death, wondering about the man's—entity's—true feelings on the subject. There were still many questions, still so many unknowns, yet this conversation had given Harry many answers he'd been searching for. It also gave him a sense of emptiness to know that there really _was _nothing he could do to reverse this curse.

If his soul was tied to Death's, nothing could consume it or destroy it. Death held it in the palm of his hand, or rather, it was tied around his neck in a sort of binding manacle. As long as Death stood tall, Harry would stand tall. Apparently, even Death could not undo what had been done.

"You look so gloom. Imagine what I feel like having a miserable bastard as a _master_."

Harry flashed the entity a disgusted look. Finding out that Death hadn't been the one to create the Hallows did lighten Harry's dislike for the man, but it still made him exasperated. He didn't _want _to acknowledge this curse. He had inherited something from three, power-hungry wizards who had never been able to inherit it themselves.

"Don't worry. I have nothing to demand of you. You can go away now."

One blue eye closed and the other surveyed Harry in pleasure. "You will never take advantage of the power I can grant you, will you?"

"I have my own power." Nevertheless, he gradually acknowledged that if the time came and he _did _need Death's assistance, he wouldn't be _completely_ against it.

"Stubborn," Death whispered softly before looking at the wand still clutched in Harry's hand. "Technically speaking, _that _wand was invented by a wizard and enchanted by a demon. It's not your own power."

"You can go now," Harry dismissed and turned his shoulder on Death.

He canceled the privacy ward and strode down the streets, feeling far more _alive _than he'd felt in ages. He felt reenergized. As much as he hated admitting it, the conversation with Death had given him a renowned outlook on his situation. Death's job was to collect and transport souls. If there _was _an Apocalypse, there really would be an end to Harry's repetitive and endless cycle.

But then he remembered what Sebastian had said the night before, of how there would be no adrenaline, no conflict to appease him in the afterlife. Harry wondered what would happen if Sebastian succeeded in turning him into a demon. Not that Harry would allow it, but he was curious to know if Sebastian would succeed, and if so, how would it affect Harry and Death?

It didn't matter. In the end, Harry saw a chance to be reunited with his family. How could he destroy that chance by being corrupted?

Though, wasn't he already damned? He had committed sins in his lifetime. He had stood back and watched others die when he could have tried to save them. He murdered his opponents without pity. Could he stand tall on judgment day and believe he had a right to be welcomed into His kingdom?

Or did Harry automatically go where Death went? There were so many unknowns. Harry refused to think on them, especially when he couldn't possibly know the answers.

A chuckle followed at his heels. "I hate demons," a voice commented toward the heavens, toward the birds. The shadow of a grim reaper walked alongside Harry. "Malphas was a pain in the arse. Still is."

At the demon's spoken name, the crows all started croaking hoarse, angry calls. Harry gazed up at them, his stride falling short. "Malphas?" He stared into the angry eyes of the crows. "Is that Sebastian's demon name?"

Turning, he got a face full of an angry crow and an absent Death. Trust Death to create a scene and slither away unharmed.

Harry held up his wand and Disapparated, leaving the lively and giddy crows behind. As much as he wanted to research Malphas, assuming such information was reliable, Harry had to follow his lead on Rosa Quileute. Scheming Dark Lords, Ministers, and Queens did not take a break just because Harry was handed useful information from Death.

**Deliver Us**

Rosa Quileute had lived with her parents until the age of twenty when she finished the training to become an Auror. According to public records, she was currently twenty-six, or, twenty-six when she passed away. The directory didn't say anything about her date of death, which only confirmed Harry's suspicions that her death had been covered up.

The next best thing was her parents' residence.

His feet landed firmly on the ground in front of a small cottage. Cold, green eyes studied his surroundings, taking note of the complete seclusion. The house was on a few acres, settled in the middle of a meadow. Further down the way, the start of a heavy tree line could be seen. The Quileute's home was isolated, cozy. For a long moment, he admired it from afar, a faint smile across his lips.

It was nightfall already and a few of the windows were highlighted by dim lanterns that omitted a golden hue. Outside, the early spring breeze had grown voracious, causing Harry's cloak to flap wildly around his feet as he approached the house. Despite the bitter wind and the eerie glow of the covered moon, the house remained solid, untouched by the night.

Harry considered the house as he stalked the perimeter, not sensing any particular wards up. The only ward he could find was one that would notify those inside of an approaching intruder. Nothing else seemed to be in place, allowing Harry easy access.

He would only ask a few questions about Rosa and her line of work or anything that had seemed important to her the last time they'd interacted with their daughter. If the Ministry were so tightlipped about Rosa, then Harry would go straight to the source.

As he took another step forward, a strong, constricting pressure erupted around his neck. Harry stopped short, gagging and wrapping a hand around his throat. It felt like someone had put a collar around his neck and was tugging him backward. Even his feet, which had turned motionless, was beginning to drag a few inches back without his consent.

_Caw. _

Harry dry heaved and clawed at his throat. There was no wizard around him, no immediate opponent that was causing this. If it weren't for the lone crow sitting in a tree branch, Harry would have been clueless as to the cause. But he wasn't. This was Sebastian's doing. The mark on the back of his neck seared and pulled. As Harry struggled against it, taking a few staggering steps toward the house, the pressure increased significantly.

The crow in the tree flapped its wings and gave a high-pitched screech, a sound that poured coldly down Harry's spine and raised the small hairs on his body. It was nails on a chalkboard, an unharmonized chord that could only be produced in the depths of damnation.

Everything went still in the night. The air grew suppressing and warm, the insects falling silent on instinct.

Moments later, the small cottage he hunted down was embraced in a brilliant white light. Harry raised his sleeve against his eyes, shielding himself from the flash. It was a silent explosion and one that didn't cause a huge backlash. Only a gust of dry, warm air picked up the corners of his cloak and played with the loose material. His deep hood inched backward, in danger of falling, but it fell back in place once the wave of turbulence ceased.

With his pulse high in both anger and adrenaline, Harry peeked over his forearm, staring at the demolished house. The small cottage was now a black smear on the earth's surface, nothing having survived but a few scraps. The once tall, grassy meadow was nothing more than a dirt landscape, stretching for miles and miles.

His gaze automatically landed on three figures that were running from the home, obviously the culprits. Their stances were bent, appearing as if they were ready to Disapparate without a moment's notice.

But Harry had more than just a moment to consider. As far as he was concerned, Rosa's parents had been innocent and they had also been his only lead in the Muggle nobility case. Their daughter had held the key to the Minister's and Queen's actions.

The trio wasn't getting away.

Harry threw his arms down at his sides, his wand pointed purposely to the ground. He conjured an Anti-Disapparation ward around the wide perimeter of the demolished property. The ward, a ring of fire, quickly snaked around and encircled the property, abruptly cutting off the wizards. One of them tried to Disapparate before it closed, but hadn't been quick enough. His body jerked into an invisible barrier and flipped him away like a mere ragdoll.

Even from Harry's distance, he could see the man had Splinched himself, now without a leg and arm. The man screamed and cried, flopping around like a fish out of water.

The other two wizards raced toward the fiery ward, hoping to run through it and into a safe haven. A vindictive smile curled Harry lips as he touched the ward with his wand. The flames turned a bright emerald and heightened in both illumination and size. If anyone, with the exception of the castor, tried to step through the flames, they would find themselves burned to a crisp in an instant.

More than eager to start, Harry calmly stepped through the wall of flames and began to make his way over to the remaining two wizards. They turned to him, taking a few steps backward in either fear or surprise. No sooner, the spells began flying, their actions similar to that of cornered animals. They were desperate, afraid, and Harry approached with an air of calm fury.

He batted away the spells and curses, their power level average at best. However, they really were putting up a valid effort. Considering there were no Unforgivable Curses or _Avada Kedavra's_ being exchanged meant that Harry was dealing with Light Wizards. _Ministry_. Soon, they would slip, and Harry was ready for Darker, more difficult spells to bat away.

"Who sent you?" Harry demanded once in earshot. "Are you part of the Ministry?"

"Go screw yourself!" one of the men spat fiercely.

"Wrong answer," Harry chided.

He flicked his wand, his curse flying straight through the man's powerful shield. The gold energy hit the man's leg and shattered his kneecap. He watched with unbridled glee as the man went down crying. Thick saliva pooled in the corners of the man's mouth, sliding down his chin unchecked.

The last man standing disposed of his morals and finally began throwing the Killing Curse in Harry's direction. With cool ease, the immortal wizard summoned the Splinched man's dismembered arm and held it in front of him as a shield. Without wasting a moment's time, Harry sent the arm flying toward his opponent.

As soon as the man was distracted, Harry flicked his wand, using his magic to wrap around the man's middle. A simple wave of his wrist abruptly had the man _flying _through the flames. The emerald flames flashed brightly as the body went through, omitting a charred corpse on the other side. The smell of burned flesh stained the otherwise clear, invigorating night.

The wizard with the shattered kneecap roared fiercely and began throwing curse after curse at Harry. His anger got the best of him and it seemed to increase his speed and power. Nevertheless, Harry was just as furious, though he'd learn through the years how to cloak it. He met each attack with calm precision, his barrier catching each curse and rebounding it.

Unfortunately, the man who had Splinched himself hadn't died as Harry had believed. By the time Harry apprehended the attack at his back, he had no time to move the barrier in front of him to behind. Holding up his left palm, he figured he would wandlessly block it, but hesitated when he saw the color of the curse.

It was either a stunner or an _Avada Kedavra_.

A crow suddenly dived in between Harry and the curse, quickly engulfed in a green glow before falling motionlessly to the ground. Before the bird hit the ground, Harry already exploded the fallen wizard's skull, killing him instantly. Toes pivoting, he caught the other wizard's hex on the tip of his wand, allowing it to grow before throwing it back.

The man grunted, doubling over and holding his stomach. His wand was easily summoned by Harry.

"What are you?!" The sole survivor cried, his shattered kneecap preventing him from standing. For being disabled, he certainly had tried his damnest. He watched Harry approach through dilated but determined eyes. "The Dark Lord…"

"No," Harry scolded softly, grinning down at the man. "Just someone you ticked off. Who ordered you to kill them?" He pointed his wand at the man's forehead. "Have you been following me today?"

Perhaps the man hadn't followed him, but _someone _had. They had known Harry was looking into Rosa Quileute and her family. In order to prevent him from getting into contact with her parents, they had gone to the extreme and obliterated them. It was such a desperate measure, one that had Harry wondering if it was a desperate act of a Light wizard or an intentional act of a Dark wizard.

The man gazed back at Harry. "I'm not telling you anything."

_Legilimency. _Harry held his wand at the man's head and submerged himself into the other wizard's wide-open mind until he found what he was looking for. A redheaded wizard was speaking to him with muffled, but distinguishable words.

"_Quileute. You know who they are, correct?" The redhead leaned closer. "Take two other men with you and destroy them and their home. This is an off-duty assignment, Greg." _

_Greg nodded solemnly, his expression stern but his eyes puzzled. "Do you mind if I ask what they've done? Who ordered the hit—"_

"_I do mind." The redhead, most likely a superior, clapped Greg on the shoulder. "You do good work. Keep it up." _

Harry pulled out, immensely frustrated. Of course, they would send someone with no connections to the case. Whoever was behind this knew that there was a possibility that Harry could practice Legilimency, no matter how horrible he was at it.

"Greg, Greg, Auror Greg," Harry sang sweetly, tracing his wand against the other man's throat. "You're a _dog_. A spineless, obedient dog. I don't know whether to be amused or shocked that the Aurors deliver such degraded hits on innocent men and women. I suppose I'm even more amused that you follow such dishonest orders without questioning them further."

He forced the Elder Wand deeper into the fallen man's throat, taking special care to press on the voice box. The off-duty Auror gagged. "People like you don't deserve to live," Harry murmured softly, staring intently at the man at his feet.

There was something odd about looking a fallen Auror in the eye, forced to see the brave eyes staring back. They were hazel in color, the same color that once belonged to Harry's father. Briefly, Harry wondered if this was what his father looked like just before Voldemort killed him. It took a brave man to stare death in the eye without flinching. Unfortunately, Harry was one of those men who hadn't flinched.

Look at where that got him.

"_Obliviate,_" Harry whispered.

Just before the spell took effect, the man's eyes widened comically. He hadn't expected to live, Harry knew.

After manipulating and erasing the memories, Harry knocked the man unconscious. He stepped over the body and approached the fallen crow. From beneath his hood, Harry gazed at the trees surrounding him, spying a few crows perched on the branches. They were silent, observant, waiting for Harry to make his next move.

Briefly, he wondered if demons could even die from an _Avada Kedavra. _He doubted it. Demons were technically already dead. They were undead, were they not? In all actuality, they were entities, just like angels and Death. However, they needed food to sustain themselves, or at least they needed food to keep their abilities up to speed.

Harry bent down and cupped the crow in his hands, peering down at the stiff, motionless form. The bird was lighter than he imagined, softer too. As much as it exasperated him that Sebastian had so many eyes on him, Harry couldn't leave the thing laying abandoned after it put itself in front of a curse for him.

"_Enervate." _A glow encircled the crow before the demon-bird twitched and fluttered. Its wings flapped in agitation before he found balance on his feet. Harry stared into its dark eyes, smirking when he saw his reflection mirrored back at him. "Foolish creature."

With its small talons wrapped around his fingers, Harry lifted his arm and released the crow into the air. The bird flapped its way into the sky, finally catching a current and riding it above Harry.

He made his way over to the burned house and stared jadedly into the rubble. Emerald eyes found and stared at the two charred corpses, barely recognizable amongst the black wreckage. A deep sense of disappointment washed through him. Going through the parents and friends of the victims was no longer an option. Harry would have to go into the lion's den to get his answers.

He needed to submerge himself within the Ministry, within the Wizarding community. Above all else, he needed to get his hands on the redheaded superior in Greg's mind.

Suddenly, the crows began crying and screeching, becoming louder and more animated than Harry had ever seen them. He whirled around, staring into the sky and watching as all the crows flocked near him and began diving and plunging toward a figure on the other side of the green flames.

Harry squinted, first identifying the huge, black dog on its haunches. It was the grim, Sirius. Next to the dog was a girl, a mere child with long, lanky hair. Her pale form was somehow clearly distinguishable through the flames. Harry could only stare. The more he stared back at her, the stronger the sense of dread grew in his stomach.

Sebastian's mark on the back of his neck began placing pressure on him, a warning.

The girl was frowning at him stoically, her eyes wide and unblinking. It was Harry who blinked first. When he refocused, he took a startled step back at the horror. Gaping black holes had replaced the girl's eyes and mouth, rivaling something that had stepped straight out of hell. Cold sweat broke out across Harry's body and he shuddered, staring into the face of an exposed demon.

He cancelled the anti-Disapparation ward and promptly Disapparated.

* * *

**Yes**, I revealed Sebastian as Malphas (a common consensus among a few fans of Kuroshitsuji). I was torn between Malphas and Mephistopheles (way too cliché for my tastes—and too long to yell in the throes of passion—ha). While I did base Sebastian off Malphas, I don't want all of you to Google him and think all the information applies to Sebastian, because it doesn't. Many of the things I found /do/ relate to my Sebastian, but some of it doesn't and I have also added a bit more. You'll learn more about him later, promise.


	9. Chapter Nine

_Thank you to those of you who reviewed. _The _Stupefy _curse is red. Sorry about that. In my AU, let's just say it's green. Also, later in this chapter, Harry and Sebastian are acting as French wizards. _Please, _use your imagination. I refuse to make a fool of myself for trying to write the accent. :)

**9. Chapter Nine**

_You are cordially invited to the Ministry's 29__th__ Annual Spring Ball! Hosted by Elias Malfoy. _

Green eyes stared suspiciously at the thick parchment. He watched the illustration of the dancers as they twirled around the invitation, executing fancy dips and twirls around the neat, golden calligraphy. There was no official 'sender', though the official Ministry logo was at the bottom of the invitation.

After the Quileute attack, Harry had Apparated to Diagon Alley, the streets dark and empty at the late hour. Not even a second later, an owl had flown at him with the invitation and nothing more. Whoever sent it had suspiciously good timing. Either it had been a convenience that it had gotten to Harry just seconds after coming from the Quileute home, or the sender had been responsible for sending the rogue Aurors after Rosa's parents and was taunting Harry with the owl's timing.

Harry shoved the invitation away and buried his face into hands, exhausted beyond belief. This was a mess. There were three parties involved in the current state of affairs; the Queen, the Minister, and the Dark Lord. Harry didn't know who was teaming up with whom and who were enemies.

It certainly didn't help matters that the trio each had their own personal army, all equally dangerous. Just because the Queen was a Muggle didn't mean she wasn't a threat.

What he did know was that he would need backup if he attended the ball. If the ball was a legit Ministry ball, he could find answers. He'd be in Malfoy's dwelling and he'd be surrounded by friends and foes. Whoever sent him the invitation wanted him there, either to meet with him or to set a trap. If it was the latter, Harry couldn't let his pride get in the way. He'd be walking on enemy's territory alone.

He needed the damn _demon_. Talk about burning bridges…

Frustrated, Harry slumped further down the chair and stared at the thick text in front of him. It was two o'clock in the morning and he'd snuck into an old, rickety library. The library itself was an unstable structure, possessing decaying wood as siding and rusty iron for windowsills. The wind hadn't died down any, the strong gusts causing the building to groan and creak. A shrill whistle sounded through the cracks of the windows, emitting enough sound to keep Harry from nodding off.

He was currently sitting at a desk with a single candle lit next to him. As much as he'd enjoy the solitude, he knew he wasn't alone. The large window next to him outlined the crows sitting on the rooftop next to the library. Harry pretended he didn't see them and favored the book in front of him.

_Malphas. _

_Considered to be a Great President of hell, often times mistaken for a Prince. Doubtless of his title, it is well known he holds 40 legions of demons under his control. _

Harry did a quick math, estimating one legion as 3,000. That meant that Sebastian had over 120,000 subjects under his control and that estimation was _modest_. He suddenly felt queasy, refusing to succumb and look at the line of crows outside. It said that Malphas was a crow demon, often taking form of a crow until summoned.

He stared at the picture of the walking crow, suddenly finding his lips twitching in amusement. Bloody hell. Was _that _Sebastian's true form? How laughable was that?

"M-alphas," he whispered mockingly. "Malphas."

Underneath the description of the pronunciation, Harry discovered the warning to never address or call out the name of the demon. Otherwise, it would be quite possible they would come when called.

Well, bloody hell. Why hadn't they put that before the pronunciation? Who the hell wrote this book? A sadist?

Harry gripped the book, expecting the worse. He visualized the child-demon standing behind the green flames. Despite dying from numerous causes and seeing things that no man should ever see, Harry admitted that he'd never been as unnerved as he had been tonight.

They called them demons for a reason. No matter how pretty or innocent they might appear, just looking at them in their demonic form would strike a deep fear in the witness.

The immortal wizard slowly relaxed his shoulders when nothing happened. Death may have claimed Sebastian was Malphas, but Death was also a bastard. Malphas could be someone whom Harry had never met before and he wouldn't greet Harry as fairly as Sebastian would.

Wings flapped wildly outside and Harry turned, watching as all the crows lifted from the roof and abruptly flew into the sky. Only when they were tiny pinpricks in the darkness did the candle on Harry desk brighten and stretch to an unnatural height. He stared at it, watching as it flickered and became as motionless as a tree on a warm, calm day.

Then it abruptly blinked out of existence, casting Harry in darkness.

He breathed evenly through his nose as he heard the _clicking _on the floor, imagining a pair of sadistic-looking boots. Harry refused to run. If Malphas wasn't Sebastian, the demon would most likely follow him even if he Disapparated. If it _was _Sebastian, Harry didn't want to run simply because he refused to be seen as weak.

Despite his bravado, Harry couldn't stop the way his heart raced in his chest or the fear he felt when the room darkened further. Demons weren't something Harry wanted to play around with, especially ones that were as high-ranking as Malphas.

The lithe wizard stood up from his seat as soon as the boots came to an abrupt halt. He turned where the sound had originated, his eyes having adjusted to the darkness. However, there was no silhouette, no shadowy figure of a demon. The tiny hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood as he imagined Sebastian standing patiently behind him, decorated in his demonic form.

He could _feel _the presence behind him. He could _feel_ the tendrils of darkness dance and slither between and around his feet. "You can go back now," Harry instructed lowly, the only way to keep his voice steady. "I've decided I don't need anything."

"It doesn't work that way." The voice was raucous, hoarse, a sign of kinship to the crow.

This was Harry's fault. If he hadn't been half-asleep while reading about Malphas, his common sense would have _known _not to call Malphas out. He had to face the demon. He had to face his mistake. If this were Sebastian, Harry would be humiliated. He'd made a point of getting one over on the butler, and by his own actions, he unraveled his work.

Harry whirled around and stared into the crimson eyes of the demon. The dim glow that poured in from outside allowed Harry enough light to see the creature's wings. They were folded inward, their tips just brushing the floor and blending in with the darkness.

The wings were the only thing he could truly perceive before his insides turned to ice and the horror raced through him. Humans weren't meant to see this. No matter how much Harry liked to think of himself as an exception, he wasn't. In full reveal, the demon was able to wash a human's insides with cold terror and darkness. Every nook and cranny was filled with indescribable horror and uncleanliness. Taint, so thick and gruesome, suffocated Harry and chilled his soul.

Ashamed of his inability to stand in the face of a revealed demon, but more eager to retreat to safety, Harry turned his heel, preparing to Disapparate. Only, a tendril of darkness grabbed his ankle and tugged him to the ground.

"Let me go!" Harry ordered coldly, trying to hide his fear as he landed on his stomach.

Malphas tsked and curled a hand around Harry's leg, dragging the boy towards him. "You will need to get accustomed to this. This is what form I will take when we mate."

It _was_ Sebastian.

Whatever relief Harry might have felt was smothered by another bout of uncontrollable terror as clawed and sinful hands reached for his waist and lifted him off the ground. His back was placed against a chest and arms wrapped firmly around him, keeping him in place. He flinched sharply when the wings, just as inky black as the darkness, cocooned his body.

"Feel that," Sebastian—Malphas— murmured pleasantly in his ear. "Your heart is racing, just like a frightened rabbit."

They were sitting on the ground with Harry settled between Sebastian's open legs and against his chest. If they had been standing, Harry would have relied on Sebastian to support his weight. Even now, Harry felt his body go limp, his limbs too heavy with fear to move properly. His stomach churned and tightened as he felt a nose trail the sensitive skin around his neck.

"You- you were ordered to—"

"There are always loopholes," Sebastian interrupted huskily. "I did not seek you out, _you _called me. Moreover, the young master ordered Sebastian to refrain from touching and interacting with you. Tonight, I am simply Malphas, a demon who was summoned informally by name." His tongue, warm and inflicting dark pleasure, licked gleefully under Harry's ear. "You've been busy today. You were even granted an audience with Death. How odd…"

Harry stared at the far wall, his eyes glassy, and his body limp. The only sign that he was living was his racing heart. He could feel it in his throat, in his ears, and in his chest. The fear had no just cause, it only stemmed from the demon's aura. It didn't help matters that Sebastian's hands were bold and wickedly pleased as they rubbed up and down Harry's body.

"Come now," Sebastian leered. "All the fight has left you." A hand curled into Harry's locks and yanked on them hard, revealing the wizards neck. "Your enemy knows you have a demon on your side. Do you think he would balk at the sight of one? I hardly think he'd have such vulnerability. You should be just the same."

There must be a spell, Harry thought foggily. If Sebastian, a high-ranking demon, was unaffected by the runes warding away lower-ranking demons, then there should at least be a spell that would make Harry immune to a demon's dark aura. As much as he hated to admit it, Sebastian was right.

The Dark Lord would find a way to be insusceptible. If the Dark Lord had a demon on hisside, then he could use it against Harry. Turning into a pile of goo in the midst of a battle just because a demon revealed its true self was unacceptable.

"It is a pity," Sebastian continued airily. His sharp claw poked at Harry's exposed throat and trailed downward. "I had hoped, because you were my mate, you wouldn't be as affected. How silly of me to keep forgetting that you _are _human. Weak and vulnerable."

"_N-no…" _

The demon chuckled lightly. "What was that, Harry?" The black feathers ruffled just slightly, sounding especially like leaves in the wind.

Harry inhaled deeply, trying to get a grip of his emotions. Harry knew Sebastian was trying to get him accustomed to this level of fear. The longer he was held captive, the more his pulse began to regulate. Terror and horror grew dimmer and numb fear had taken its place. The hands touching him were still sinful, yet they weren't nearly as suffocating as they had been.

He inhaled again, breathing in the demon's aura. Darkness threatened to stain his soul, fear spiked before dimming, and the corruption was beginning to grow familiar.

"No," he repeated, this time more firmly.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me," the demon coaxed mischievously.

With his hair still held captive by the clawed hand, and his head still angled backward, Harry permitted his eyes to look up at the face staring down at him. His heart gave a profound _thump _at the slit-crimson eyes and the fanged smile. It was a human face, but the way his emotions were spiking, Harry knew it was not _human. _

Sebastian –Malphas—looked different from his butler persona he took with Ciel. There were many features that were the same, but they seemed sharper, even more defined than they were originally. His eyes were less slanted, his jaw more structured, and his hair was longer, falling past his shoulders in limp locks.

Harry reigned in his fear and reached out toward the demon, his fingers brushing the creature's jaw before grasping it tightly. "I am not weak," he stated firmly.

Malphas' smile widened. "No, perhaps not weak, just susceptible to a demon's thrall." He stared down at his prey, hardly bothering to knock Harry's hand away. "I know a way to make that human fear disappear in the presence of an exposed demon. Would you like to hear it?" he asked elatedly, as if he held a truly spectacular secret.

Harry's lashes fluttered as he glared at the demon. His hand dropped from Malphas' jaw as the demon leaned closer to him, their eyes just inches apart.

"All it will take is one night together," the creature purred. "With my seed inside you, _coating _you, your body chemistry will change considerably. Perhaps you may turn into a demon, perhaps a half-demon. All that matters is that you will not experience this level of fear again."

Unreceptively, his stomach clenched hotly at the tone and at the implied act. "And what will you get in return?" Harry inquired darkly. "My soul corrupted enough to be forever bound to yours?"

Malphas opened his mouth into a predator-like smile. "Precisely." A single, talon-like finger stroked Harry's cheek. "A fair trade, I believe. We both gain something in turn."

"One night or one _time_?"

Greatly amused, Malphas chuckled deep within his throat. "It takes much for a demon to be sated. One night equates to multiple _times_, I assure you. I'm pleased you're considering it."

Something stirred hotly in Harry's stomach, but he quelled it quickly with fierce disgust. Of course demons would have a bottomless libido. "Not a chance," he hissed. "Perhaps if it was one time I may consider it."

Malphas raised his eyebrows. His hand dropped from Harry's throat down to his chest. Humor had vanished from the demon's expression and in its place was wary contemplation. "Are you really?" he questioned silkily.

Harry wasn't necessarily _considering _it as he was musing over the implications. If Sebastian wasn't a demon, Harry may have already submitted to their sexual attraction. But it was so much _fun _to make Sebastian work for it. And above all else, Harry refused to have his soul stained.

Harry inhaled levelly. "Will one time truly turn me into a demon?"

"Believing a demon will tell the truth is rather sweet of you, really."

The wizard scowled, their current conversation doing much to muffle the fear he felt of being so close to an exposed demon. "Considering I am your… _mate, _it would be nice if we could start off right by being truthful, no?" It was so difficult admitting their 'mate' status aloud, but somehow he had done it.

"As if you are hardly truthful with me." Malphas appeared pensive, his hands still holding Harry against him possessively. "There is a chance," he admitted candidly to Harry's earlier question. "But there aren't many cases in which my kind has relied on turning a human into a demon through sexual means."

"What other means are there?"

Malphas looked put-off from their deviation from sexual teasing. "Most ways deal directly with the soul. A demon can consume a human's soul before spitting it back into said human. Considering you are an exception," here Malphas' eyes lightened, "corrupting your soul needs to be done in other ways."

"And what if I don't want to be corrupted?" Harry countered.

The demon's claws suddenly retracted from his body. Harry's head was released and his body was propelled forward due to Sebastian's jostle from behind. A warm current of air ruffled his hair as the demon's wings flapped once. Harry turned quickly, spying Sebastian currently sitting cross-legged upon the desk just a short distance away.

"Put yourself in my position, pet," Sebastian addressed impassively. His crimson eyes were aglow from across the room and they never strayed from Harry. "How would you react if _I _was your mate?"

Gracefully, Harry stood from the ground, happy his knees weren't as weak as they had been earlier. Reluctantly, he understood Sebastian's point of view. Yes, he supposed it would be frustrating to have a mate who was so inconsiderate to his situation. Though, he refused to feel guilty.

"Then put yourself in my position," Harry refuted. "How would you react if _you _refused to become a demon and your mate was adamant on it?"

Sebastian waved a dismissive hand. "I would have no reason not to become a demon, simply because I don't know the reasons _why _you're so persistent on staying human."

Harry ran a hand through his hair in frustration. It was too late for this conversation. "For one thing, I don't want to consume human souls to sustain myself."

"I consider that to be one small sacrifice for getting what you desire."

That stopped Harry in his tracks. From just skimming the article on Malphas, he remembered brushing over one of his abilities. The demon had the capability of sensing the desires of enemies and humans alike. "And what do you think I desire?" he bit out, trying veil his indecision.

Malphas bowed his head, as if exasperated with Harry. "I have already told you once before. You crave adrenaline, war, battle. You will never find it in _that _afterlife you think you want." Before Harry could interrupt with a retort, Sebastian continued. "But above all else, what you truly desire is eternal companionship."

"I don't—"

"You do," Sebastian interrupted with acidic sweetness. "You've always felt alone, have you not?" Crimson eyes pierced through Harry. "Even if you like to fool yourself and believe you once had family, friends, you never _truly _felt as if you had a companion for yourself, one that stays by your side and never wavers from it. You had a…_wife_," he spat the word, "did she stay committed to you, Harry? Or did her attention waver as well?"

Even if Sebastian had been blindly groping for the relationship Harry shared with Ginny, the demon was proved right by the ashen sheen across Harry's face. Malphas blinked once and a smug smile crossed his lips.

Harry pressed a few fingers against the crown of his forehead, trying to smother down his anger and fury. The sensation to turn and flee was overpowering, but he couldn't keep running and he would never give Sebastian the satisfaction. What happened with Ginny was long ago, and what happened with his other significant others was just as much a memory. However, they all had something in common: their abandonment. Having that thrown in his face was nearly intolerable.

"You don't know anything, Malphas," Harry informed stiffly.

"No, you keep your secrets guarded close to you," the demon acknowledged. "But I can see your desires. And when your desire for companionship is that strong, I can only imagine that it was never sated throughout your lifetime."

"I'm done talking about this," the wizard bit out. "I need to sleep."

Malphas rolled his ankle merrily and his wings twitched. Even if his posture was perky, his eyes and his expression were far from it. "We are not done with this conversation." He tilted his head, a single fang catching the light and glimmering back at Harry. "I like to see how far you go when lying to yourself. It's remarkable."

Harry took a step closer to the desk, feeling the fear increase with each step. "Probably not as remarkable as your inability to take 'no' for an answer." He narrowed his eyes on the demon. "I will never mate with you. I will never submit to you. I acknowledge your power but I find demons distasteful."

Sebastian turned motionless. His aura suddenly spiked, becoming far darker than before. All the hairs on Harry's body stood straight and his willpower trembled and withered. His knees almost gave out, but Harry's sheer determination made him keep his balance.

He felt a bit guilty for being so cruel to Sebastian, but he didn't _want _to become a demon. Harry wanted to be reunited with everyone in the afterlife, yes, but that wasn't even the whole of it. He didn't want to consume souls, he didn't want to make contracts, he didn't want to live down _there_, and he didn't even know if he would keep his magic if turned into a demon.

A life without magic seemed even more desolate than living forever.

There were just too many unknowns with becoming a demon and Harry didn't like it.

Malphas suddenly smiled through his ire. "Good, you're getting better." He acknowledged Harry's refusal to turn and run in the face of his aura. Without even a seconds notice, the demon was standing behind Harry. "Let's see what is stronger in the end," he whispered in Harry's ear, "Your ability to lie to yourself or my inability to take no for an answer."

A chill crawled slowly done Harry's spine and it had nothing to do with the demon's close proximity.

The candle on the desk suddenly lit, casting the room in brightness. The presence behind Harry left and for a second, he thought the demon had left. However, as he turned, he spied Sebastian, now in butler form, standing over the books Harry had pulled earlier.

The wizard's muscles sighed with relief as the anxiety left them. He planted his feet together and put his shoulders back. A surge of confidence made it easier to look Sebastian in the eye.

"Elias Malfoy," Sebastian remarked, reading the invitation on the desk. "If I remember correctly, you suspected him of working for the Dark Lord. And look here, you are invited to a _ball _hosted by him. Rather convenient, hmm?" He plucked the invitation up with two fingers. "You're not going," he declared firmly.

Harry laughed, only because he felt so _good_. He was finally in control of his own emotions. There was no exposed demon forcing him on the defense. It felt good to shed the vulnerability.

He definitely had a way to spin this situation. Earlier, he had acknowledged the fact that he needed backup when he attended the ball. His pride wouldn't need to be damaged if he somehow got Sebastian to offer to accompany him. This could work. Harry wouldn't need to look like a fool by _asking _the demon to go with him.

"I need to go," he started, trying to veil the slyness. "I'm sure you were aware of what happened tonight with the Quileute home. I lost that angle. Going into Malfoy's home might give me answers, either in his home or I can get my hands on a new lead." _Especially the redheaded Auror who had given the hit on the Quileutes. _

Sebastian stared at him from over his shoulder, his expression controlled. With a blink of an eye, he smiled pleasantly, as if knowing Harry's angle. "Then I will accompany you."

Harry kept his features schooled. Did Sebastian know Harry was trying to manipulate him into offering his attendance? If so, why had he volunteered to accompany Harry without adding salt to the wounds? "The ball is late, but it's not _that _late," he pointed out. "Ciel will still be awake by then. You may have gotten past his loophole tonight, but it won't work again."

The wicked smile that crossed the butler's face was enough answer for Harry's earlier uncertainties.

"You might have to try to convince the young master to terminate his order regarding my distance from you." Sebastian seemed positively thrilled, though his face was a simple mask of pleasantry. "You are right. You may find answers here, but it may be a ploy. You'll need an extra hand, wouldn't you agree?"

Harry closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose. So it would be that way. Harry would have Sebastian's support without having to plead for his compliance and Sebastian would have his 'restraining order' revoked if Harry convinced Ciel to rescind it.

"Bloody hell, demon," he whispered hoarsely. He was so tired. "You're a pain in the arse."

"Just imagine," Sebastian continued pleasantly. "It will be our first date together."

A headache suddenly blossomed behind his eyes and he hunched his shoulders. "I will speak with Ciel," he growled lowly. "Please, just leave me alone."

When a dead silence met his request, Harry glanced up, spying Sebastian standing just inches away from him. The demon reached over, ignoring how Harry tensed, before grasping his chin. With a suspicious amount of gentleness, Sebastian leaned down to capture Harry's lips. His hands cupped the younger man's jaw, holding him in place with just enough force to keep him still, but not possessing any of his usual roughness.

The kiss became fainter, as did the fingers holding his face. When Harry's lashes fluttered open, he blinked at the empty space Sebastian had just occupied. Flustered, Harry touched his mouth, feeling the ghost of Sebastian's lips still in place. His skin prickled, hyperaware of the demon's lingering caress.

_Caw. _

The call jarred Harry from his musing. Whirling around, he stared at the crows settling back down on the neighboring roof. There was still so much Harry needed to ask Sebastian. The conversation tonight had taken a turn Harry hadn't anticipated. He wasn't too frustrated, considering he would see the demon again tomorrow night—or tonight to be correct.

Slowly, he dragged himself back to the desk, wondering why his mind kept dwelling over their conversation about buried desires and wondering why it bothered him so much.

**Deliver Us**

Unfortunately or fortunately, Ciel had eventually caved in and revoked his orders to Sebastian. It had taken Harry quite a few owls to reassure him that Sebastian would not be distracted away from his original goal of serving Ciel and helping him extract revenge on his parents' killers.

Harry caressed the Gaunt ring on his finger, mindful of its power. While Harry could summon the dead for a short time, he could only summon his loved ones, those who he knew well, and those who knew him well. If Harry wanted to summon Ciel's parents, he would have to borrow the ring to Ciel.

It was something to consider, though the consequences were unpredictable from both Ciel and Sebastian. Harry would need to set aside a time to be alone with the boy, as Ciel would most undoubtedly be too vulnerable to deal with a leering demon and his dead parents at the same time. Moreover, Sebastian would be furious if Harry lost him his meal.

He exhaled and buttoned his high-colored blouse and stuffed the long hem into his black trousers. The trousers and blouse were a simple, yet elegant design for underneath his emerald and silver robes. Incarnate designs weaved the hems of the emerald cloak, the silver stitching all but glimmering extravagantly.

Harry would have never been able transfigure robes suitable enough for tonight's ball. Thanks to Ciel's gold and Harry's thievery, he was able to purchase tailored robes for both Sebastian and himself.

"You know…" a voice whispered softly behind him. "I conveniently forgot to mention a peculiar observation I made last night."

Harry finished fastening the cufflinks and began fiddling with the emerald robes. Over his shoulder, he watched as Sebastian emerged stealthily from the surrounding darkness. They had agreed to meet in the library before Harry Apparated them outside the gates of Malfoy's residence. Fortunately, the library had closed just an hour earlier, giving them more than enough privacy.

"Those aren't the robes I ordered for you," Harry remarked suspiciously, ignoring the demon's odd greeting remark. While it _had _been tempting to order something outlandish for Sebastian to wear at the ball, he hadn't wanted to draw too much attention to himself tonight.

Instead of black and red robes, Sebastian looked down at the white and emerald material, a pleased smirk in place. "We match better this way," he gushed sweetly, apparently deciding to keep his pleasant butler demeanor in full force tonight. "I look positively radiant in white, wouldn't you agree?" A fanged smile flashed. "Almost… pure."

Harry scowled unpleasantly. How in the world had he changed his robe order? "I would hardly go that far." He sent a guarded look at the demon, reluctantly admitting they fit the man well. They definitely exaggerated the man's tall and lithe frame.

"I wonder," Sebastian continued, "if I could get you to wear white during our first night together."

If the demon was going to continue this, Harry might as well add his own cynicism rather than getting uptight. Sebastian _wanted _to fluster Harry. "I don't imagine I'd be wearing much of anything, if it ever got to that point," he pointed out dryly, turning back around to straighten his collar.

He was currently standing in the library's loo, peering into the only available mirror. Harry hadn't been able to sleep last night, not only because Sebastian had kept him up with their conversation, but also because Harry had wanted to get everything prepared for tonight. He had combed a few curses, corresponded with Ciel, purchased robes, and _bathed_.

Despite the lack of sleep, Harry felt rejuvenated. The bath had done wonders. His hair was currently parted to the side, smooth and tamed, two contradictories when it came to his hair.

"You're my cousin," Harry informed the demon promptly after fastening the high-collared robe over his white blouse. "For people who don't know me, which will be the vast majority of the guests, we come from France. You can do a French accent, can't you?"

"Do we really need—"

"Yes." He turned around and gave Sebastian his full attention. "We do need a charade, _Jules_. We are pure-blood cousins visiting Britain. As prospective patrons of the Ministry and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, we were invited to the Ministry's ball. I dare say, it is quite possible we may be making Britain our new residency if properly swayed."

Sebastian quirked an eyebrow at Harry's flawless French accent before offering a slow, languid smile. His eyes swept the length of Harry with a predator's glee, his hands twitching at his sides. "You look delicious," he hissed, all human pretenses long gone.

Heat crept up the back of Harry's neck, though he kept his expression schooled. "That's hardly the way to talk to a _cousin_, Jules." He offered his hand out to the demon. "Ready to go?"

Hooded eyes stared at the offered hand. Sly amusement replaced fevered interest as he reached for Harry's hand and curled his fingers around the palm with intentional slowness. The demon wore gloves tonight, but that didn't stop the pinprick-like shocks that traveled down Harry's arm as Sebastian's fingers purposely brushed the thin skin of his wrist.

Tense, Harry touched the Elder Wand in his pocket and Disapparated.

Sebastian shouldn't have been use to Apparation, but somehow, his malevolent words reached Harry's ear through the Apparation. "You have a tracking mark on you," he supplied pleasantly. "The demon who entered the young master's bedroom imbedded a pinch of magic inside of you. It's why your enemies could follow your trail when you were looking into Rosa Quileute."

Shock almost caused Harry to lose concentration. Fortunately, they landed near the gates of Malfoy manor without any Splinching. "But the Aurors were the ones to kill Rosa's parents." He scratched the back of his neck, not able to sense anything. It had to be demon magic, otherwise, Harry would know if a wizard had cast anything on him.

"Don't tell me the demon is actually working for the Ministry," Harry hissed out, infuriated. It would make sense. If the demon, who had broken into Phantomhive manor, put a tracking mark on him, and the Aurors were aware of his whereabouts last night, then it was quite possible the Minister was the one to make a contract with the demon.

"I would not know where the demon's allegiance lays," Sebastian supplied easily, hardly bothered by the situation.

Harry grabbed the demon's arm and pulled at it, crowding the tall frame close. "It doesn't bother you that another demon has marked your mate?" He would be daft if he didn't want the tracking removed from his neck.

As if _needing _Harry to say that, Sebastian offered a thin smile that was hardly reassuring. "All demons who encounter you will know that _I _was the one to mark you," he explained. "I am not going to remove the tracking from you." He straightened to advance closer to the Malfoy manor, but Harry tugged him back once again.

"Why?" he demanded through clenched teeth.

Crimson eyes turned to look at him in narrow amusement. "Simply because I want things from you that you won't give me."

"Sex," Harry supplied dryly, exasperated that it was all Sebastian wanted.

Sebastian flicked his hand dismissively. "Among other things." He looked through Harry. "The circumstances surrounding your deaths, how you are acquainted with Michael, what you discussed with him, how you came to be immortal, the history between yourself and Undertaker, and above all else, I want to know you from the inside out." He pressed the tip of his finger between Harry's eyes. "Until _you _give any sort of slack, I will refrain from giving into your demands. I am not your master. We are equals."

Before Harry could stop himself, he grabbed Sebastian's wrist once again, holding him back. Once he realized what he'd done, he dropped the demon's arm and threw back his shoulders. "I'm sorry you think that way," he said stiffly. "When I first met you, I thought you were nothing but a dog, but I've come to see that there is more to you—"

"You're frightened of what I am," Sebastian corrected with smooth interruption. "That's not the same thing as respecting me as an equal."

"Bullocks," Harry barked, earning a few glances from the guests filing into the gates. He didn't care. They were still too far to be seen properly or to be overheard. "Are you listening to yourself? You see me as a _pet_, as someone you can conquer and claim. I hardly think you're one to talk."

A small, hardly distinguishable frown line appeared between Sebastian's eyebrows. "Sexual desires are one thing, respect is another." He placed his fingertips against Harry's chest. "For being such a delicate-looking thing, you are undoubtedly one of the most powerful and intriguing humans I have come in contact with. I respect you."

It frustrated Harry. A very, _very _large part of him wanted things to remain how they were in regards to his relationship with Sebastian. He didn't want to get too close, he didn't want to form a strong attachment and then lose it by dying. Because he _was_ beginning to be intrigued by Sebastian, from his demon background to the feelings he invoked inside Harry. If he let his walls down, there was a very good chance Sebastian would take residence.

If that happened, and Harry miraculously changed his mind about becoming a demon, then he would have no qualms about mating with Sebastian. And despite his fears over the corruption, he had a strong intuition that Sebastian wouldn't be able to turn Harry into a demon, thus he wouldn't be able to anchor him to hell and prevent him from jumping to another universe.

_There are other ways, you know. You could ask Death for a way around—_

Harry tossed his head in stubborn defiance, ignoring Sebastian's watchful gaze. He wasn't to that point in his relationship with Sebastian to go crawling to Death and pleading for a way to stay with Sebastian. Besides, even if he did ask, he wondered if Death would grant him that wish. The entity had made it clear he despised demons.

He didn't know his fingers were twisting his Gaunt ring until he was aware of Sebastian eyeing it in impassive intrigue. Briefly, he wondered if Sebastian could sense that the ring had been enchanted by a demon or if he could only sense it when all three Hallows were together at the same time. The three brothers had made the three artifacts, but it was the demon that enchanted all three in order to grant immortality.

"We'll finish this conversation later," Harry informed, dropping his fingers from the ring. "I'd like to get to the ball."

Sebastian performed a perfect bow at the waist and encouraged Harry forward with an extended arm. "After you, _pet,_" he invited pleasantly.

Knowing the demon wouldn't give him any more answers without something in return, Harry advanced towards the manor, adjusting his posture. His shoulders straightened and his stride turned arrogant and proper. His neck arched elegantly and he kept his chin lifted. It had been awhile since he'd been surrounded by pure-bloods, but he remembered enough to fit in. While the Ministry ball would have half-bloods or Muggleborns, 1889 was a time of pure-blood supremacy. Pure-bloods did not discriminate too harshly, but they did expect every witch and wizard, no matter their blood, to follow their traditions and protocols.

With Sebastian standing directly at his shoulder, Harry merged with the crowd of guests and walked into Malfoy manor. He paused in the extravagant foyer to show one of the few wizards standing guard the invitation he'd received. Harry tried not to stare too much at the Malfoy employee. The man was dressed in ridiculous periwinkle blue robes and his bulbous hat had a proud peacock feather sticking straight from the top.

Harry and Sebastian shared a look, the former turning away before a smirk could mare his perfectly schooled features.

"Welcome to the extravagant and sophisticated manor of Elias Malfoy, who warmly welcomes you to the Ministry's 29th Annual Spring Ball." The guard discarded Harry's invitation with the others after running his wand across it to validate its authenticity. "Please follow the guests into the entertainment hall where you will find dancing, music, and a wide assortment of beverages and hors d'oeuvres. Enjoy your evening."

Harry leaned toward the demon once they were permitted to leave. "How many times do you reckon he practiced that before he memorized everything?"

Sebastian smiled thinly. "The question you should be asking is how long he manages to keep it up."

Green eyes turned to look at the guard over his shoulder. "I give it five more guests before he resorts to grunting and pointing." His steps faltered just briefly as they veered away from a dark corridor, his fighter instincts jerking toward the danger, the secrets.

"Let us scope our surroundings first, _Henri_," Sebastian murmured quietly with a French accent. He laid a hand on Harry's shoulder, and guided him into the hall of music and stuck up pure-bloods. And worse of all, _politics. _

Harry breathed sullenly. Still, it was a bit amusing to hear Sebastian use a French accent. The man was a natural at it, then again, he was an expert in everything. "I'm sure you're used to this kind of thing, with Ciel being a noble." He shuffled toward the food, despite Sebastian's instance of going into the thick of things. "Muggle nobles and pure-bloods all share a common characteristic."

The demon watched as Harry grabbed a chocolate truffle. "And what is that?" he asked, humoring the wizard.

"They all have skewers shoved up their arse."

One passing woman looked at him in repugnance either from overhearing him or from him talking with his mouth full. He winked at her and went back to the truffles. Through lowered lashes, he surveyed the enormous hall. There were many people present, far too many for Harry to take note of each one. He wondered if the Minister was here already and he wondered if he would encounter Elias Malfoy.

He hadn't used a glamour for tonight's ball. Even though Malfoy had seen his face during the attack those many nights ago, Harry had wanted to keep his features displayed. Not only so he could draw attention to whoever sent him the invitation, but also because he _wanted _a bit of risk. He wanted to see the look on Malfoy's face, to see if the blond remembered him, and what he'd do in turn.

"I would have thought you would appreciate your culture," Sebastian commented, though he sounded entertained at Harry's earlier comment.

"I was raised by Muggles," Harry informed quietly. "And by the time I went into the Wizarding world, it wasn't nearly as stiff and proper as it is in this era. Things seemed more relaxed despite the war I grew up with."

That seemed to pique Sebastian's interest. "You're from the future then." It wasn't a question so much as a statement. "What year?"

Harry opened his mouth, ready to tell the demon off, but then he remembered their conversation outside the manor. He tilted his head up to catch the crimson eyes. "I was born in 1980 and I died in 2030."

"You mean you killed yourself during your mid-life crisis," the demon pressed slyly. "Just how many times did you kill yourself before you realized you couldn't die?" It was simple curiosity, not at all mocking or scornful.

Harry shifted. "Four," he murmured in amusement, a bit bashful over how many suicides it had taken to sink in. However, he'd done them out of sheer desperation and panic, not so much because he was stupid. "I've been to eight different timelines with no rhyme or reason."

While Harry thought the information he was handing out was dry, Sebastian seemed extremely interested and suspicious. "So you don't get to pick the era you jump to after death. How odd…" the demon trailed off and stared into Harry's blank and innocent eyes. "I _wonder_ if Death has something to do with that. Curious. He's familiar enough with you to give you a private consultation, and the relationship you share with Undertaker is quite revealing. He claims you cannot control him now that he is not a shinigami, which clearly means you _did _have the ability to control him at one point."

"You got me," Harry whispered, keeping a straight face. "Death… is my father."

Sebastian stared, his expression closed in order to veil his skepticism. He didn't want Harry to know he believed him or doubted him, simply because he would earn a mocking comment if it turned out to be false. Harry tried to keep his snicker to himself, but he chuckled anyway.

"Amusing," the demon drawled, hardly impressed by Harry. "However, I won't rule it out. You have many similar characteristics to _him_."

Before Harry could inquire further to Sebastian's connection to Death, someone bumped into him, causing Harry to stumble. Sebastian saved him from going into the punch bowl by a single hand to his chest. As Harry muttered a stiff 'thank you', he noticed the demon's guarded expression as he eyed the individual who'd bumped into Harry.

Hoping it was Elias Malfoy or the Minister, simply because he was bored, Harry turned and stared into a face that greatly resembled his _true _father.


	10. Chapter Ten

_I had more planned for this chapter (including the lime scene I promised some of you), but it just got so big. I needed to split things up. _

_Thanks to those of you who took the time to review._

**10. Chapter Ten**

"Will Potter." The man hurriedly stuck out a hand, his expression openly intrigued and fascinated. "I don't _think _I had any drunken affairs yet, so that leaves my father as your possible sire." He flashed a teasing grin, taking in Harry's appearance with a spellbound eye.

Harry had searched many years for his ancestors before resigning himself to the fact that there weren't in any of his timelines. Of course, the years he had looked were far earlier than 1889, and the name 'Potter' was most likely not part of pure-blood lineage as of yet. Now that Death explained, in so little words, that Harry couldn't undo his current predicament, he had no driven ambition to go out of his way and discover if Will Potter had possession of an Invisibility Cloak.

Ironic, really, that an ancestor would promptly fall into his lap when he no longer desired it.

"I would say that's a practical assumption if my mother wasn't such a prig," Harry replied, adopting a demeanor of natural good-heartedness. He shook his ancestor's hand, grinning when the man appeared taken aback at his French accent. "Henri Roux, it's a pleasure to meet you. And this is my cousin, Jules Roux." Harry motioned to Sebastian with a tilt of his head.

"A pleasure," Sebastian crooned as he shook Will's hand.

Harry watched the two thoughtfully. Sebastian had claimed that the Dark Lord had smelt similar to Harry. Could this be their Dark Lord, who'd conveniently bumped into Harry? It was something to keep in mind. As much as he'd like an inside source, he had to be mindful that Will could be the enemy despite how outgoing he appeared.

Will was engrossed with Sebastian for all of two seconds before he turned back to Harry. "You don't have glasses, your features are a bit sharper, and your hair is tamer, but you could definitely pass for a Potter." He tapped his glasses, which were as round as the ones Harry once wore before he corrected his eyesight. "And your eye color, of course."

Harry simply smiled, wondering how Will was related to him. He'd never know, of course, but he could speculate. "My father looked much like you," he informed truthfully. "Pure-bloods are all related to one another, I'm sure we have a common ancestor somewhere down the line." He let a few seconds pass before changing the subject. "Are you part of the Ministry?"

Will nodded earnestly. He looked over his shoulder, searching for a face in the crowd. "I am an Auror," he replied distractedly, turning back to Harry. "I've been with the Auror Department for four years now. And yourself? You're from France, clearly."

"We're here to investigate a possible cover-up by the Ministry," Sebastian intervened smoothly. Clearly, he wasn't about to conform to Harry's French cover story. "We are not from France. We're right here from Britain."

Harry seethed, extremely insulted and frustrated. He turned to look at the demon, his eyes clearly expressing his ire. Sebastian hardly seemed intimidated by Harry, if anything he was amused. The tall frame leaned down and pressed his lips near Harry's ear. Fortunately, he was on the other side of Will's close observance.

"We need a source inside the Auror Department, do we not?" Sebastian whispered lightly. "Besides, he's utterly fascinated with you and his soul is rather bland for my tastes. I don't sense any foreseen trickery from him." And without further warning, the demon's tongue darted out and licked Harry's ear possessively.

The immortal teen nonchalantly leaned away and turned back to Will. Much to his surprise, the man appeared solemn and not at all shocked at Sebastian's confession. Harry quirked an eyebrow and surveyed the man closely, suspiciously. A revelation like that should have taken even the most skilled actor aback.

"You don't seem surprised," Harry drawled darkly, uncertain if he could rely on Sebastian's demonic instincts.

Will curled his fist and used it to muffle his throat clearing. "I should have expected it in the first place, actually." He ran a hand through his hair, effectively messing it up further. He seemed almost bashful gesture before he quickly converted back to grave professionalism. "He said I would _know _when I'd see you, I guess he was right."

"Who is 'he'?" Harry asked quietly with a hint of lethality.

Slowly, he altered his posture. To an untrained eye, he'd just be shifting his weight from one leg to the other, only, he was getting ready to attack if necessary. His arms crossed casually over his chest, but his hand crept up his sleeve where his wand was. It would take less than a second to draw it if needed.

"Thomas Fink. He was the one who invited you to the ball."

It took Harry a brief moment to put a face with the name. He remembered a man with floppy blond hair and dark blue eyes, a man who always trailed after Minister Brown. Thomas Fink was a top Auror for the Ministry and the last time Harry had seen him, the Auror had been rather hostile toward him. He had doubted Harry's abilities to hunt after the Dark Lord and had challenged him to a duel.

"Explain," Harry demanded. His fingers only brushed the Elder Wand, yet it was enough to spring a subtle privacy ward around them. No one would be the wisest.

Will nodded sharply, as if detecting the ward and acknowledging Harry's quick thinking. "I've noticed discrepancies around the Ministry as of late; evidence against the Dark Lord's followers going missing or inconclusive, shifty colleagues, missing Aurors, and many conversations behind closed doors involving the Minister." He looked over Harry's shoulder. "Auror Fink has noticed it just as well and he wanted me to speak to you."

Casually, Harry glanced over his shoulder. Through the masses of chatting witches and wizards, Harry's eyes pinpointed Minister Brown and Auror Fink. Thomas Fink stared at Harry from over his goblet before turning away and integrating himself back into the conversation. Standing next to him was Minister Brown. The man was chuckling with a redhead, a certain redhead Harry knew quite well.

His shoulders stiffened and bloodlust raced through his veins. While many experienced bloodlust and associated it with heat, Harry associated it with ice. His blood turned cold and his vision tunneled. He preened under the rejuvenating feeling of lust and the tantalizing taste of _need_. It had only been a few hours ago since he'd engaged the three Aurors in battle, but it was never too early to have another round.

"The redhead," Harry stated with a slight slur. "Who is the redhead?" He knew the redheaded Auror was the one directly responsible for ordering the three Auror's to eliminate Rosa Quileute's parents, consequently making him a very large lead in Harry's book.

Will took a step back, uncertain at the dark, predator-like expression on Harry's face. The immortal wizard exhaled calmly, though it sounded more like a hiss. He touched his fingertips to the crown of his forehead to calm himself. Expertly, he pulled his features back into one of cool regard.

"Forgive me," Harry murmured tightly, looking back up at the man who was a few inches taller than himself. "But I suspect that man is a rogue Auror." He didn't want to give any details away. If he did, he would have to explain how he got his information. Not only did he not trust this man, no matter his ancestry, but it was neither the time nor the place.

"I wager that your suspicions are correct," Will Potter relented, casting one wary glance at Harry. "His name is Mark Winter, one of the Minister's pet Aurors and closest consultant. Minister Brown surrounds himself with a ring of Aurors. Thomas Fink, the Auror who invited you to the ball, is trying to maneuver his way in with the others. It's why he can't be seen talking to you. Thomas told me about you. He said Minister Brown is keeping a sharp eye on your movements. Even though he enlisted in your services, he refuses to trust you with any information."

"And what exactly is it that _you_ want?" Harry's lips quirked. "What do you think are my _services_?"

Potter shifted, the only sign of his comfort level. "Our hands are tied," he explained. "We can only do so much with dirty politics in charge, which is why Thomas and I believe an outside force will work best. If you can discover what they're hiding, or any wrongdoings, you can eliminate them more effectively than we can."

Next to Harry, Sebastian gave a breathless laugh. "I dare say he thinks you're an assassin." The demon's crimson eyes glittered down at Harry.

"Isn't that what you are?" Will Potter inquired stiffly, as if taking Sebastian's statement as inclination that his belief was wrong. "I—we believed the Minister hired an independent assassin to eliminate the Dark Lord."

Harry tossed his head, smiling darkly. "I suppose you could label me as such, though I've never been called that before." He saw the confusion in Will's eyes and realized that he should have just accepted the label. It was much easier than explaining that he was simply _bored _and hunting Dark Lord's was something to pass the time. "If I understand you correctly, you want me to eliminate the Minister and his 'pet Aurors'—"

Potter quickly cut him off, appearing shocked at the words. "No," he all but barked. "We'd want the hard evidence in our hands in order to take down everyone involved, to weed out the corruption in the Ministry. I misspoke earlier. When I said 'eliminate them', I meant eliminate them from their positions of power."

"An assassin does not push paper around, Mr. Potter," Harry drawled, inwardly gleeful at successfully imitating Severus Snape. Will Potter was young enough—green enough— to flush at the tone and the words. "My _services _are used to truly eliminate threats. Unlike most others, I have no strings involved, which allows me to get away without being questioned or held responsible."

The other Potter glanced at Sebastian, as if trying to get support. He was only met with an impassive stare. "I understand the nature of your services," the man replied, lifting his chin and his eyes alighting with valor. "But I'm going to _ask _you, _pay _you, to find out the details of the Minister's deceit and the others involved. I don't want you slaughtering everyone who stands against you. We need that evidence to rebuild our government. I can help you every step of the way."

He stared at the man who was only a few years older than Harry's physical age. It took him a long while to identify the flushed cheeks and the eyes that were aglow with determination and a great deal of stubbornness. When he finally identified it, Harry's skin washed cold. Will Potter had adapted an eerily similar expression that Harry often wore in his younger years, during a time when he was so certain of wrong and right, good and evil. It was a time when Harry had only one life to savor, to cherish, to defend. He knew what he had to do and he went after it with blind determination.

Over the years, the line between good and evil had blurred and merged together. It was somewhat refreshing to see that stability once again, even if it was on someone else.

Harry became aware of Sebastian's heavy gaze and he wondered what the demon could possibly see. "You haven't commented on my age," Harry suddenly observed, more curious than anything. _Everyone _commented on how young he was, yet Will Potter was oddly silent on the subject.

The man blinked, as if deterred by the sudden change of topic. "Appearance is superficial. Your eyes are older and your power is very strong." Will leaned closer. "Others may think it is your aura, but a trained eye knows it's your magic. It's cultivated and sophisticated, definitely refined. That kind of magic is something only a capable wizard possesses. Even if you are young, you're capable of accomplishing your responsibilities."

It was Harry's turn to be surprised and he pointedly ignored the way Sebastian flashed him a knowing smirk. "I admire your solid principles," he admitted, bringing the conversation back around to the original topic. "I will try to give you hard evidence if there _is _something the Minister is up to, but I cannot guarantee you anything."

He watched the silent struggle on Will's face, a bit disappointed that the man trusted him enough to ask for his blind help. Then again, Harry once experienced that desperation before. The situation with the Ministry and the Dark Lord was extremely disconcerting.

"However," Harry started, drawing the man's quick attention. "I think you already knew that, otherwise you would have never agreed with Thomas Fink about contracting with me. There is a reason _you _can't find out the things you need to know. The Minister and his lapdogs are covering their tracks especially well and you need someone with just as much backwards ethics to uncover what they're hiding."

Reluctantly, Potter nodded and exhaled in resignation. "I understand. Truthfully, I was hesitant at first to agree with Thomas about hiring outside help," he said, as if clearing his goodwill and making himself feel better by calling Harry 'help' rather than 'an assassin'. "But the situation at the Ministry has gotten extremely unnerving."

"Is there any specifics as to _what _you've noticed?" Sebastian inquired, tired of giving Harry the lead. "There must be something substantial you can give us."

"Not entirely," Potter scratched the back of his neck in unease. His eyes darted between Sebastian and Harry, as if wondering who was easier to look in the eye. In the end, he decided to stick with Harry, his instincts too unnerved with Sebastian. "There was a quadrant of Aurors, younger trainees who disappeared entirely. Mark Winters claims they're on a mission, but no one's been able to get in contact with them."

"We're familiar with them," Harry supplied, glad to know he was right in assuming the Minister had wanted those five wizards and witches dead. "Why this group?" he pressed. "What reason were you given to their mission? Surely you must have thought it unusual to have trainees leave together for an extended period of time."

"Of course I did," the man retorted stiffly. "From what I've been able to gather, they were sent into the Muggle world to observe suspicious behavior. The Minister claims a few noblemen had their hands in dodgy business and sent surveillance."

"All five of them have been killed."

Will straightened at Sebastian's admission, but nodded nonetheless. "I figured as much. No one was informed of _where _they were relocated to, which families they were assigned to. I only knew they were sent to Muggle noblemen from the whispers around the Ministry. It was never formally confirmed and their deaths were never reported."

He seemed truly upset over the information, Harry noted. "And what do you think?" he pressed, a wry grin in place. "Do you think they were assigned to the Muggle world for surveillance? Or to silence them permanently?"

Potter pressed his eyes closed, a gesture that could be seen by all the guests. He certainly didn't veil his reactions very well. "Silence them. They must have uncovered what the Minister is trying so hard to cover up."

It was what Harry assumed. If that were the case, then the Queen could be completely innocent in all this. There was nothing tying her to any of the crimes like there was with the Minister. Even if Harry had nothing solid, he knew Minister Brown was carrying something on his shoulders. However, if the Queen wasn't involved, then _why _were those Muggle noblemen dead? Why were those five families targeted?

He had another headache. Whatever plan he had formulated was shattered. He could not integrate himself into the Ministry and pry answers from the Minister, simply because Will Potter had already confirmed the man did not trust him. As far as the Dark Lord went, Harry needed to practice subtleness. His earlier plan of luring the Dark Lord to _him _was instantly debunked when the man proved too cunning, too safe.

Harry needed to do the same.

"Won't you be suspected for talking to me?" Harry inquired after a moment's time. He glanced to the side as a female wandered closer to them, only to veer off to the side and alter her direction. It was the privacy ward Harry had put up. The guests would find it unnecessary to approach their general vicinity.

However, the ward wouldn't stop people from taking notice. Nonchalantly, Harry glanced over his shoulder, noticing the Minister was no longer in his original spot.

"Can they blame me?" Potter adjusted his glasses. "We look similar. We are trading family histories." He shrugged. "Besides, this is the last time we will be seen in public together. You can owl me and I will inform you where I live. We can correspond comfortably there."

"My," Harry purred a bit mockingly, "such trust." Sebastian leered next to him in agreement.

"I'm a good judge of character," Potter declared, raising his chin as if he were defending his integrity. "As well, I am willing to pay you whatever you want."

Harry's eyes turned half-lidded at the prospect of being ruled by money. He didn't want gold. If he so needed it, he could take it from Ciel. Moreover, he didn't want Will Potter to think he was so easily swayed. "I don't require payment. Offhand," he added as an afterthought. "But I do require a favor from you. I have yet to decide what I want, but you will most definitely follow through."

Being a good sport, Will nodded his consent. "It was pleasure to meet you both…" he trailed off, clearly wanting a name from both of them now that their French cover was blown.

"Harrison Evans," Harry replied evenly. "And this is Sebastian."

Pleased with the compliance, but suspicious that he was being lied to once again, Potter only inclined his head in thanks. "We will keep in touch." As if carrying the world's fate on his shoulders, Will turned on his heels and retreated past the privacy ward, successfully breaking it.

Harry looked after him, still not trusting the man. Potter had no solid evidence of the happenings of the Ministry. While inside help was useful, it was worthless if that source was a bottomless pit of dry information. At least it was confirmed that Minister Brown _was _behind something. How the Queen and the Dark Lord tied into all this was still a mystery.

A restraining hand suddenly curled around Harry's throat. "I don't like how fascinated he was in you." Sebastian leaned down and took Harry's earlobe in his mouth. "You're _mine_."

The statement could have been laughable if it had been any other person who'd spoken it. Harry thought possessiveness was inane. However, when it came from a demon, who had the ability to strike fear in the most courageous of people, it gave Harry a different prospective. He briefly wondered how Sebastian and Death would interact with one another when both entities believed to have a claim on Harry's soul. It was something Harry wanted to avoid at all costs. He did not favor drama like that.

"Stop being ridiculous," Harry scolded, trying to toss his head from the demon's hold. "He's only interested because I resemble the Potter family."

With intentional slowness, Sebastian withdrew his hand. "Were you ever that bland?" he asked curiously.

Harry's lips curled into a genuine smile at the question. "I imagine I was," he responded, amused. "Don't be so harsh. I admire his spirit."

Sebastian's eyes became half-lidded with ire. "That's only because he complimented you." The demon paused a good while, watching Harry with intrigue. "If I compliment you more often, will you begin to like me?"

My, but Sebastian was rather humorous tonight. Harry didn't know if the demon was serious, or genuinely interested in the answer. "Hmm," he mused for fun, "it wouldn't hurt to try, now would it?"

Instead of acknowledging Harry's humor with his own, Sebastian bowed at the waist and looked pensively into Harry's eyes. "You're beautiful when your eyes are alive."

Extremely uncomfortable, Harry shifted and grimaced. "I changed my mind. I like you better when you don't sound like Gilderoy Lockhart admiring himself in the mirror." He tossed a look at Sebastian's lack of comprehension. "Inside joke," he explained hastily.

"If you're not comfortable with words, then I can show you other ways I admire you," the demon breathed huskily, reaching out and drawing a finger down Harry's throat and inching it past the collar of his dress robes. "You would never have to rely on inconsequential compliments to sate you."

"That's enough," Harry warned, slapping Sebastian's hand away. "We are in public, if you hadn't noticed." He turned his head, locking eyes with a startled witch. Her eyes were wide as she looked between the two males in a compromising situation. "Do you have problem?" he snapped at her.

"That's hardly the distinguished pure-blood act you insisted we charade around with," Sebastian commented lightly, watching as the female walked away.

"What's the point of keeping any charade if your demon companion insists on debunking it to the first person we come across?" Harry turned on his feet and gazed across the hall. He couldn't help but to study the guests in depth for the very first time that night.

Women were dressed in gowns that dripped with jewels and frilly lace. Their faces were powdered white, pale like a porcelain doll's complexion. Even if some of them were born with short, stubby necks, they somehow kept their necks arched into swan-like arches. They giggled and they flirted with prospective males, performing just the simplest of tasks with cultured grace.

Their male counterparts were hardly any better. Their robes were just as lacy and extravagant, though their colors and cuts were masculine. When they weren't dancing, they were conversing amongst each other, their chests puffed out and their shoulders held back with seasoned breeding.

Harry had a sour taste in his mouth as he watched the spectacle. He would never be able to fit in with these kind of people.

Green eyes searched further and finally landed on the Minister and his redheaded companion. They had moved into a thicker crowd, surrounded from every possible angle. It was too much of a crowd for Harry to wiggle through. Even if he had planned on speaking to the Minister or ambushing the redheaded Auror, the task would prove impossible.

In the thick of the crowd, Harry suddenly spotted a blond man with sharp features and a face that could be Lucius' doppelganger.

He had nothing else to accomplish at the ball itself. His prey was protected at the moment and he had already established a shaky connection inside the Ministry. Harry thought he'd been productive enough for the evening. Now it was time for some fun.

"Sebastian," Harry called lightly, his tone level despite the sudden spike of excitement. "I think it's time we invite ourselves to a tour around the manor."

**Deliver Us**

Malfoy manor was like Knockturn Alley in its shocking variety of Dark Artifacts. Harry had to keep his curiosity and excitement under control, reminding himself not to touch things simply because they appeared irresistibly _cool_.

A ward-detecting spell Harry had invented a few decades ago was cast over his eyes, allowing him to lead the way through Malfoy's manor undetected. He'd encountered a few sensors that would alert to intruders. Those wards were bright purple and stretched from one wall to the other, looking especially like tripwires in the Muggle world. They were easy enough to disable, at least long enough to let Sebastian and Harry pass.

So far, they'd only encountered a few artifacts warded behind powerful charms and jinxes. Once Harry discovered what they were, he hissed at their uselessness. Yes, the Ministry would be interested to know of the different potions and wicked artifacts Malfoy possessed, but they weren't _proof _of _anything_.

Harry briefly wondered _what _he was looking for. What had he expected to find? The Dark Lord making himself at home in the dungeons?

"The Dark Lord knows my surname is Potter," Harry murmured to Sebastian, who was walking behind him. "I don't know how safe it is to use Will Potter as our ally. It may affect _our _safetyand _his_ safety."

Silence came from behind him, causing Harry to whirl around, his wand poised and ready just in case Sebastian had been taken off guard by an enemy. He stared at the scene in front of him, shocked speechless for all the wrong reasons. "W-what the _bloody hell _are you doing, demon?!"

Sebastian was crouched in front of a cat, completely engrossed with the feline and ignorant to Harry's fuming ire. He was smiling pleasantly as he held out a piece of thread from his dress robes. With quick jerks of his hand, he taunted the cat with it. The animal swatted at it with intense concentration, its little paws and front legs flailing to capture the loose thread. With each exhalation, Harry could hear the deep, thundering purr of the animal.

"For… Merlin's sake." Harry lowered his wand and pressed a restraining hand to his forehead. It was things like _this _that made Harry wonder about Malphas' sanity and true lethality. The demon he had encountered last night in the library hardly compared to _this_—this abomination.

Just as he made a move to escape the dungeons and venture toward the upper levels, a shimmering light snagged his attention. He turned, squinting into the dark corridor at a single, inconspicuous door. A faint, web-like ward covered the door, its blue strands dull and all but blending in with its surroundings. It was a beautiful ward, but Harry recognized it for what it was.

It was unlikely that Elias Malfoy entered the room very often, as this type of ward was extremely dark and required a sacrifice each time he entered.

Harry stared at it stubbornly. He couldn't distinguish if it required a human sacrifice or _any _sacrifice. Slowly, he turned his eyes back to the cat Sebastian was engaging. It wasn't unusual for cats to roam their master's house, but Malfoy didn't strike Harry as the type of wizard to have a cat wandering the dungeons. Moreover, this cat had matted brown fur. If Malfoy wanted it for a pet, he'd have a striking white cat with blue eyes, he assumed.

No. This cat was put down here for Malfoy's convenience.

"Sebastian," he called for the demon's attention. When the butler continued to play with the bloody cat, Harry fumed. _"Malphas,_" he hissed darkly.

_That _got the demon's attention. His neck snapped up and he leveled Harry with a piercing gaze. The gleam in his eyes brightened into dark greed. "I do love it when you speak my name."

"Please bring the cat over here," he requested as lightly as he could, unnerved with the way the crimson eyes were watching him with unwavering attentiveness. "I need to use it to unlock the ward around the door."

Sebastian scooped the cat off the ground and held it possessively against his chest "I won't let the malicious wizard touch you," the demon promised into the feline's ear, cradling the animal close.

"You're kidding me, right?" Harry raised an eyebrow, almost nauseated with the demon's lack of _masculinity_. "My respect for you just plummeted to levels I didn't even know existed."

Something akin to true humor ghosted across Sebastian's face before he covered it with sly consideration. "What will I get in return?" He hugged the cat closer, almost suffocating it with his hold. The feline's eyes bulged from its skull and it emitted a choked meow.

Harry shifted, reaching toward it and hoping the demon didn't kill it before necessary. "I'm not giving you a damn thing. Give me the bloody cat!"

Sebastian appeared directly in front of Harry a second later, pressing the younger male against the wall with his body. The cat was pressed between them and could do nothing but emit low, angry meows. "I want you to say my name," he ordered. "Moan it. Right in my ear. I want a taste of—"

"Sebastian." Harry spoke directly in his ear, irritated beyond recognition.

The demon tsked in reproof and angled his body ever so slightly away from Harry. It was clear he would do his damnest to keep the cat away from him, no matter what they could accomplish if they sacrificed it. "You know what name I want to hear. And if you consider that a moan, I'm afraid we'll both be in for a rude awakening when we mate."

Harry breathed heavily through his nose and tried to control his rage. He didn't have _time _for this, yet Sebastian insisted on being difficult. Either the demon enjoyed frustrating Harry or this was some ploy of his to get a tickle of excitement.

Biting his tongue, Harry stood on his tiptoes and neared Sebastian's ear. He could do this. One simple… "Malphas."

His stomach tightened as the name slipped past his lips. For some unexplainable reason, his pulse raced, as if speaking the demon's true name was the same as seeing Malphas in his demonic form. But Sebastian was simply Sebastian, unchanged and still in human form. A hot and heavy sensation dropped to the pit of his stomach and made his groin twitch in satisfaction.

The only thing that stopped Harry from ridiculing himself was the reaction he got out of Sebastian. The demon's eyes turned half-lidded with pleasure and a fang pricked his bottom lip.

"That's more like it," he croaked huskily.

Before Harry knew it, he was holding a struggling cat in his arms. It hissed and clawed at him, scarred from being held so tightly by Sebastian. Not wasting another minute, Harry whirled around and faced the door. Holding the cat in one arm and his wand in the other, Harry coaxed the web-like ward alive.

It shimmered brightly, sensing its activation and searching for its meal. Carefully, Harry held the cat out, offering it to the ward. A few strands from the web suddenly shot out and curled around the offered meal. As soon as Harry was sure the ward had a solid hold on the cat, he released the animal and backed up. It would spell disaster if the strings made contact with his skin.

He watched as the dim blue ward brightened to gold as it hugged the cat against the door and sucked the life force from the feline. The cat only struggled briefly before it slackened, its body engulfed and glowing from the stringy strands of magic. Just as the cat exhaled one last time, the door unlatched and clicked open.

The door groaned as it was pushed open by an invisible hand, leading into nothing but darkness. Harry hesitated just for a moment, but it was all the time Sebastian needed to enter before him. Not willing to stand by and wait, Harry followed, flicking his wand and lighting it with a _lumos. _A moment later, his lighting charm proved to be pointless as torches activated the moment they detected motion.

Flames roared to life and shed light across the enormous room. Harry stood next to Sebastian, staring at the sheer size. It was at least half the size of a Quidditch pitch, if not slightly more. Instead of stone floors like the rest of the dungeons, light-colored cement took its place. The ceiling was surprisingly high and wooden crates filled the majority of the room.

It appeared like a Muggle warehouse, Harry realized dimly.

He frowned and squinted, trying to see any wards or oddities that a normal eye would miss. He only saw the Malfoy wards that webbed and crisscrossed across the room in white streaks, a typical ward pure-bloods placed around their homes. It prevented people from Apparating inside the home and Disapparating outside.

"What could these boxes possibly be hiding?" Sebastian mused.

Harry turned, watching as the demon reached for one of the boxes with a gloved hand. "Stop!" he ordered sharply when he saw a fold of magic ripple at Sebastian's touch. "Something isn't right."

Sebastian complied, pulling his hand away and watching as Harry neared the crate of boxes. From the way the air moved with Sebastian's touch, it almost appeared like a curtain rustling from a breeze. He'd seen it before. It was an illusion. These boxes, they weren't _really _here. He voiced his thoughts to Sebastian.

The demon turned to him with a perfectly raised eyebrow. "Then what's underneath the illusion?"

Unnerved, Harry raised the Elder Wand. "I guess we'll find out."

Never one for subtly, Harry pulled at the illusion and ripped it away all in one go. He realized a second later that his impatience was one of his downfalls. If he had investigated the elaborate illusion before tugging it away, he would have realized that the floor was also an illusion and not something he should have been standing on when dismantling the magic.

He gave a choked gasp as he fell, his legs flailing and his heart dropping with the unexpected descent. Before he could go much further, a hand reached out and curled around his wrist, stopping his fall. Startled, he looked up, only to realize that Sebastian had been standing at the edge of the illusion when Harry had dismantled it and was able to find footing on solid ground.

The demon's crimson eyes were angled down, and oddly enough, they weren't focused on Harry but on the depths below. Surprise clouded his features and for Sebastian to be surprised…

Still dangled from the demon's reach, Harry jerked his head down in order to see what had caught the butler's attention. His pulse stopped and shock reverberated across his body. There were so _many_! So many pairs of lifeless eyes that stared up at Harry, their faces slack with death.

"Merlin," Harry whispered, at a loss for words and logical.

There had to be hundreds of corpses, hundreds of men and women, _children_, who were discarded into the pit. Most of their limbs were strewed awkwardly away from their torsos, entwining with their neighbors' bodies or weighted down by the ones above them. Some corpses were newer than the others were. The older corpses were decomposing, the skin around their mouths all but disintegrating and exposing their gaping jaws.

It looked like a rubbish pit for disposed and broken dolls.

However, the _smell _was what ruined that comparison. Harry hunched his shoulders and gagged, coughing and whimpering as the putrid odor stung his nose and lungs. He was subconsciously aware of Sebastian pulling him up and onto solid ground. It took Harry a moment to realize Sebastian was speaking.

"…a few months ago. Undertaker was responsible."

"Undertaker?" Harry slurred, wiping the spit from the corner of his mouth. "What did you say?"

Sebastian looked mildly displeased at Harry's disorientation. "The young master and I uncovered something similar a few months ago on a voyage. An underground society, consisting of upper-rank doctors, were practicing experiments on corpses, trying to raise them from the dead. They succeeded in animating the corpses, but because they had no soul, they were reverted to zombie-like creatures that preyed on the living."

Harry pushed himself off the ground and stood. "Is this what you mentioned in Undertaker's shop? About him experimenting with immortality?" He turned away from the pit and pressed a reassuring hand to his temple. "How is Undertaker responsible for what happened in the Muggle world? You said it was a society that—"

"The true culprit was Undertaker," Sebastian interrupted. "He added fake memories to the corpses' Cinematic Records in order to animate them."

"Cinematic Records?" Harry shook his head. "Never mind."

He knew what Cinematic Records were, thanks to his time with Undertaker. Every being, every creature, possessed one. It was a simple string of memories a shinigami could review when they came to collect and review the souls. The Cinematic Record showed the shinigami recollections of an individual's memories in the form of a brief movie. Once the shinigami collects the soul, the Record reaches its 'end mark'.

According to Sebastian, Undertaker used his shinigami abilities to add more memories—fake memories— on to the corpses' Record, fooling the dead body into thinking it was still living. In turn, Undertaker thought he could restore the dead back to the living. However, did he truly think he could accomplish such a task? Undertaker wasn't an idiot. He knew those corpses' souls had already passed on. They would never truly be 'whole' without their soul.

Unless, of course, he was still determined to bring back his lost son. The thought of Undertaker's desperation made Harry cold.

"Undertaker may have his ways to animate corpses, but it sounds oddly like necromancy magic to me," Harry explained sullenly. He angled his head down to look at the pit of corpses. "We call them Inferi in the Wizarding world. They're created by Dark Lords for the purpose of serving his army."

He snapped his neck around and surveyed Sebastian closely. "How many of those corpses did Undertaker create?"

"Hundreds," Sebastian supplied. "A similar number that lies in that pit."

Harry crossed his arms over his chest, doubt licking at him. "I find it hard to believe that Undertaker played with each of those corpses' Cinematic Records individually. We have to consider the fact that he might have had assistance."

"Magic," Sebastian concluded, catching Harry's line of thought. "You think Undertaker was working with the Dark Lord to create an army? But for what possible reason?"

"Has Undertaker ever done anything that is rationalized?" Harry asked dryly, though it was hard to find amusement in a situation like this. "For a shinigami, Undertaker is unusually obsessed with death and immortality. He had a family once," he said softly. "Having attachments like that is against the shinigami code. He was unable to save his son from a sort of illness…" he trailed off, knowing now was not the time to discuss Undertaker's past.

"And Claudia?" Sebastian inquired. His eyes were sharp as they looked at Harry. "Claudia was his lover, correct? You never mentioned that he was unable to save her, yet I know she is dead."

Harry's shoulders stiffened and he motioned to the pit, changing the topic entirely. "We'll need to talk to Undertaker and get answers out of him." He remembered Undertaker's sly warning that Harry would be back for more answers. That damn shinigami was a pain in his arse.

"And in the meantime?"

Green eyes slowly slid from Sebastian back to the faces inside the pit. He knew what the demon was insinuating. The corpses were inactive at the moment, but they were a threat.

"_You will look into the eyes of humanity and wonder how you could ever be associated with such a devastating, sad race." _Death's words came back to Harry as he stood at the edge of the pit. Was this was Death was talking about, hinting at? Harry had seen Inferius before. While it was sad, disgusting, it certainly wasn't as shocking as Death made it out to be. Unless… unless this wasn't what he had been speaking of, only part.

"Yes," Harry responded dully to Sebastian's concealed inquiry. "We need to destroy them."

"Fire should do the trick, I think."

Harry turned, surprised to find Sebastian making beckoning gestures toward the torches on the walls. The fire exploded in a controlled wall of flame under the demon's ministrations. As if charmed by Sebastian, the waterfall of fire slithered toward him, endless in its supply of flames. Harry would never admit it to anyone, but Sebastian looked bloody brilliant.

With practiced ease, Sebastian beckoned the flames into the pit. Like a tidal wave, the fire roared and dived. Only, just before it had the chance to come in contact with the corpses, all the bodies disappeared in a blink of an eye.

Harry rocked to the balls of his feet and whipped his wand out, pointing it directly at the hooded figure across the other side of the pit. The figure had emerged from thin air. The wand in his stranger's hand was evidence that he had been the one to summon the pit of corpses away from the manor.

"I truly don't want to see such hard work destroyed."

The drawl was familiar, as was the blond braid that escaped the confinements of the cloak. Harry kept his own wand leveled on Elias Malfoy, staying firm and unmoving even when the door slammed shut behind him. He could feel the presence of others closing in behind him, just as he was aware of the hooded figures that had all but emerged _through_ the walls and joined Malfoy's side.

"My Lord wants you alive," the deep, cultured voice of Malfoy informed. "But he specifically instructed us to damage and capture both yourself and the abominable _pest _at your side."

A sadistic smirk curled Harry's lips as he stared narrowly at his prey. "Fat chance," he whispered softly, "seeing as the _pest _could decapitate you before you can throw your curse."

It was Malfoy's turned to scoff and he fished out a medallion from his robes. Around him, all the hooded figures followed suit, revealing a medallion that looked suspiciously like it was constructed from _lead_. They were too far away for Harry to see the inscription on the medallion, but it looked suspiciously like demonology symbols, something that resembled a Faustian Contract, but not quite.

With a start, Harry realized where he had gone wrong in warding demons away. He had been relying too much on Christianity symbols and protection. While that had warded away lower-ranking demons, it had done nothing against Sebastian, who was a high-ranking entity. Demonology is what he should have used.

Throwing a quick glance at Sebastian, Harry watched as the demon lost his proud stance and adopted a hunched poise. His eyes brightened with fiery distaste and his shoulders began shifting, as if he were about to expose his wings in a matter of seconds. However, there was a shadow of hesitancy, mere proof that Malfoy really _did _have protection against Malphas.

"You may want to reconsider your arrogance," Malfoy supplied superiorly. "It is _you _who is at a disadvantage."

Malfoy took a startled step back when Harry flashed another smirk, this time with a wicked and immoral edge to it. "And that is your first mistake," Harry started coolly, "underestimating enemies that are your betters."


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Warnings: **/slight/ gore, lime

_Thanks to those of you who reviewed _

**11. Chapter Eleven **

Their eyes met for just the briefest of moments and something akin to commonality passed between them. If Harry weren't so charged with adrenaline and the promise of battle, he would have been shocked to his core at their shared wavelength. Briefly, he wondered if this was what Sebastian felt all the time, this otherworldly link—this _connection_— resulting from their status of mates.

Harry had never had a partner he could battle with side-by-side, simply because he had never been in harmony with others. They'd always get in the way or they'd always complain about Harry's unnecessary killings. But with Sebastian, it was an immediate connection and understanding, and it had Harry's blood boiling with anticipation. Sebastian knew what Harry wanted and Harry knew what Sebastian wanted. Nothing was sweeter than shared bloodlust.

Sebastian matched Harry's wicked smirk with one of his own before breaking eye contact.

Their silent, but mutual understanding had only taken a mere second. When Harry turned back to Elias Malfoy, the blonde-haired wizard was still recovering from Harry's boastful claim.

The smirk on Harry's face turned into a wide, wicked smile. "Your second mistake," Harry began easily, "is thinking a demon needs physical contact to destroy you."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he lowered his wand and voluntarily fell into the empty pit in the ground. Wind and gravity surged past his hair and robes, tugging them back toward Sebastian and the mouth of the pit. Harry maneuvered his body into a dive, forcing his body to fall faster. His timing proved impeccable. Just seconds later, under the control of Malphas, an inferno of flames roared with enormous ferocity above the pit, spreading its scorching reach across the room.

The screams from the wizards above were cut short, the flames too hot to cause any lingering suffering as their bodies turned to immediate char. There would be wizards who were strong enough, fast enough, to put up shields in time. Or as Harry had witnessed during the first attack in Muggle London, they would use their unique ability of flying, an ability someone with incredible power must have taught them.

It was what Harry had planned to do. Anytime he could implement his flying ability, he jumped at the chance. After all, it had taken him years upon years to learn the ability. Showing it off was what he did best.

Grasping his wand, Harry's descent slowed and his body gradually turned weightless and nearly tangible. As he flew at a neck-breaking speed toward the mouth of the pit, his body left a trail of black smoke in his wake. He wrapped himself in a protective barrier and surged past the wall of flames.

He hardly had the time to survey how many wizards Sebastian had destroyed before another body nearly collided with his. Harry veered, avoiding a collision by a few hairs. He looped and encircled around the Dark Lord's follower, eagerly identifying the surge of magic around the wizard's neck before abruptly pulling at it.

And low and behold, he found Elias Malfoy's third mistake: not properly protecting the runes around their necks. The amulet clattered to the ground not too far away from Sebastian's feet. Not wasting any time, Malphas abruptly plucked the wizard from the air, resembling the cats he loved so much as they seized strings waving tauntingly in front of them. Unlike a cat, however, Sebastian hardly played with his food. As Harry flew past him, he could hear the horrified screaming and the sounds of bone crunching.

The fire under Malphas' hold fell way and Harry sped past the demon as the creature tossed the broken and bloodied body into the empty pit. He looped back around and toward the Dark Lord's followers who had survived the fire with warding spells. Once the fire disappeared, they dropped their wards rather foolishly.

Harry tsked merrily as he flew past them and tore off the medallions around their necks one by one. He did so quickly before they could properly comprehend his plan of action and ward the runes from such simple summoning charms. Around the room, the sound of metal hitting the floor echoed across the wide and empty chamber. Rather than facing Malphas, who was now revealed in his demon form, the wizards whose runes had snapped from their necks all began racing toward the door.

They should have known one must never run from a hungry predator. Malphas descended upon them with frightening glee, easily avoiding the curses thrown at him from the wizards who had enough courage to lift their wands in the face of his demonic aura.

The screams erupted behind Harry as he flipped and landed on the ground. His shoes grew warm and almost agonizingly hot, the flames gone but their presence still felt through the warm temperature. He hardly let that affect him as he faced the wizards who were superior enough to last this long. They had protected themselves against the flames and they had smartly warded their runes. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Elias Malfoy was one of the lucky bastards.

He wore a black mask like the rest of the followers, but Harry could clearly see the blond braid. The man stood amongst his fallen comrades, their charred and black corpses lying unceremoniously around the room. Their teeth were clearly bared in gruesome grimaces. Harry briefly wondered how he'd rather die, being burned alive or being on the other end of a demon's wrath.

The spells came at him from all angles and all at once. Harry flicked his wrist, a strong, shimmering shield encompassing him. There were five wizards left standing, their anger fueling the strength of their spells.

Five curses hit his circular barrier and Harry spun the gold shield fast enough to rebound the curses and send them flying in every which direction. As soon as he heard the small, almost breathless grunt of one of his opponents being hit with a rebounded curse, Harry turned on them and implemented his attack.

The wizard grabbed his bleeding arm, a result of the rebounded curse, and hardly had enough time to raise his wounded arm in defense as Harry set his mask aflame. The man screamed, his wounded arm forgotten as he clawed at his face and tried to set the flames out with a spray of water. Harry flicked his wand, sending a rope-like curse toward the unfortunate man, curling it around the wizard's ankles and pulling him in the air feet first.

Harry threw up his arm and aimed for the wriggling man's head. With a murmured incantation, he cast a Blasting Hex that caused the man's head to explode. Before he could truly savor the kill, a Slicing Hex warmed inches away from his ear and cut off a lock of his hair. His hair hadn't even properly severed before a flash of silver _whooshed _past his head and toward the direction where the Slicing Hex originated.

Green eyes widened, recognizing the object as a cutlery knife, now imbedded in the forehead of the wizard behind Harry. He turned again, finding Malphas standing across the room. The demon's eyes were half lidded and bright with savagery as they stared at Harry. A tongue darted out and licked a crimson trail of blood that had begun to descend down his ungloved hand. Harry's fear of Malphas' demonic aura suddenly seemed insignificant when faced with the man's satisfied bloodlust. Harry felt his cock twitch and harden at the sight the demon made.

_Fuck. Merlin Fuck. _

"Save the rest for me, demon," Harry growled huskily, half-turning to block another curse. "You've had more than your fair share."

Now down to a trio of surviving wizards, and under the watchful gaze of Malphas, Harry spurred into action. He kept his attention on Elias Malfoy and another brute-like wizard, giving the third wizard a false sense of security. He still blocked curses coming from that direction, but he made certain that he gave off the appearance of being absorbed with the other two.

He traded barbs with the trio of wizards, mostly batting away their meager attempts at injuring him or stunning him. He was lulling them into a sense of comfort with the pace and giving off the impression that he was a defensive wizard as opposed to an offensive. As soon as the neglected third wizard relaxed at Harry's avoidance, he struck.

Open and vulnerable, the Dark Lord's follower could only grunt in surprise as Harry rounded on him. With a simple flick of his wand, Harry manipulated the chain around the man's neck to twist and choke him. Encouraged by the harsh gasping and choking, Harry snapped his wrist up and hung the man by the neck. A sharp _snap _of a dislocated neck and spine sounded before Harry dropped him back on the floor.

Their medallions might have been properly warded against summoning charms, but their chains were still a liability to manipulation. Seconds after his comrade was hanged, the wizard standing next to Malfoy cast a rather nasty hex at Harry. Anticipating this, Harry leveled his wand equal with his opponents' wand and curse.

"_Avada Kedavra._"

His Killing Curse split the man's hex down the middle, sending two weak trails of hexes in separate directions. The green curse continued on its path and struck the man's wand, splintering the piece of wood down the center. The Dark Lord's follower had only a moment to yelp in surprise. If the Killing Curse had been cast by an ordinary wand, the green jet of light would have been sated with destroying the wand before dissipating soon after. However, with the Elder Wand under Harry's control, the _Avada Kedavra _continued strong and struck the man in his hand. Engulfed with a green glow, the wizard flopped to the ground in a dead weight.

"Impressive," Malfoy drawled.

Harry circled the blond wizard, pondering on which method to extract. "I can say the same about you," he murmured softly. "It's a rather impressive feat to be the last wizard standing, though an unfortunate circumstance. I now have my attention focused solely on _you_."

A soft scoff was heard from beneath Malfoy's mask. "I have no intentions of fighting you myself. Alone, I do not stand the chance of keeping up with someone of your status… or should I say title?" He inclined his head in the face of Harry's slight surprise, acknowledging the fact that he _did _know about Harry's status as Master of Death. "My wards will have to do, no?"

Before Harry could truly consider the consequences of Malfoy's awareness, the crisscrossed webs of the Malfoy wards sprang alive at their owner's command. With his ward-detection charm still over his eyes, Harry could clearly see the wisp of magic that appeared out of nowhere and flicked him off his feet.

His wand went soaring across the room and toward Malfoy. Harry grunted in pain as his back was thrown into the wall. He slid ungracefully to the ground and quickly angled his neck about to watch as the Elder Wand descended towards Malfoy's greedy reach. His attentiveness was out of morbid curiosity, of course. Harry knew what was about to happen. It happened every time Harry had been disarmed, whether voluntarily or involuntarily.

But he wondered if this time would be different, simply because this timeline seemed to be full of unique, exciting surprises.

Unfortunately, it was just like the many times before. Once the Elder Wand made contact with his hand, Malfoy screamed shortly, dropping the wand and clutching at his arm when it erupted with flame. Even if the wards were wrapping around Harry and constricting his breathing, he laughed gleefully.

"I'm afraid only the powerful have a tolerance to wield such a temperamental wand… Malfoy." Though his arm was pinned at his side, his hand was free and he wiggled his fingers, beckoning his wand back to him.

It came, like an eager puppy pleasing its master. Harry willed it to eat away at the wards, or at least shred them enough to render them useless. There were times Harry could just _will _something to happen without having to chant an incantation inside his head at the same time. Other times, simple will was not enough nor feasible, even with the Elder Wand in his possession.

Fortunate for him, the Elder Wand turned warm and heavy as it absorbed and shredded the Malfoy wards. While it was effective, Harry had to struggle underneath the force. It took a great deal of effort just to keep his wand arm raised. Sweat dripped down his temples as he pushed past the heaviness and raised his arm higher.

A white gold encompassed him, its heat unbearable. Shock-like bolts erupted from the wards as they fought back. They shuddered and erupted like sparklers, and when the pinpricks of light touched his skin, it prickled unpleasantly. Still, Harry continued to press forward, surrounded by tendrils of angry, hissing wards.

"Poor boy," Malfoy addressed merrily. He kept a shield up around himself, as Malphas was stalking close by. "Do you really believe this was more than just a simple warm up?"

Harry jerked his head up to stare at Malfoy's cloaked figure, watching with hidden intrigue as he flicked his wand. Around him, the Dark Lord's followers, who had fallen by either Harry's hand or Sebastian's brute force, all began to animate. If that wasn't problem enough, shadows grew against the walls of the chamber and slowly began to take the form of dozens, upon dozens of new fighters.

"By killing our numbers, you've only made us stronger."

Blood roared in Harry's ears and he pulled against the persistent wards, which continued to wrap hungry tendrils around his torso and legs. The number of Dark Lord's followers grew in sheer number, whether they were real, or just an illusion, Harry knew it was time to retreat.

They attacked Malphas first, deciding their chances of bringing down the demon would be higher if they joined forces. Sebastian threw them a superior look before abruptly disappearing. Harry knew it would be a matter of time before they focused solely on him. He pulled fiercely against Malfoy's wards before aiming his wand toward the center of the web-like wards. Pouring his magical strength behind his attack, Harry rained assault after assault on the stubborn wards.

A blinding flash of white flooded the chamber, causing everyone in the vicinity to close his or her eyes at the intensity. A high-pitched screeching erupted from the wards as decades and century-old magic was torn completely from its foundations. The entire manor seemed to shudder and emit a low, thunderous rumble. Pieces of stone and debris began to rain down from the ceiling before increasing in speed and size.

Malfoy screamed in rage at his destroyed wards and shot a Severing Hex at Harry's wired and exhausted figure. A flurry of black wings blocked Harry's vision as Malphas appeared before him. The hex caught him across his outstretched palm, breaking skin and drawing a fountain of blood.

Before Malfoy could cause any more damage, Harry fell against Sebastian's back and embraced him from behind. Gathering what little strength and magic he had left, Harry Disapparated past the shredded wards. As they were squeezed through the Apparation, Harry closed his eyes against the nausea and kept his arms firmly around the demon.

They landed abruptly in the trees surrounding Phantomhive Manor. Harry uncurled his arms from the thin body before him and grabbed the demon's hand. He tried not to let the demon's aura strike fear within him, at least not an overpowering fear that would render him useless. With his adrenaline still boiling his blood and his body still in battle mode, Harry found it easy to stand tall in Malphas' presence.

"You're lucky your hand is still in one piece," Harry remarked, turning the bloody hand this way and that. It was an incredibly deep cut, but from the light of Harry's wand, he could see it slowly begin to heal.

"I would have regrown whatever I had lost," Malphas responded huskily.

Harry could feel the eyes focused intently on his bowed head. He tried to ignore the burning thrill that settled in the pit of his stomach and occupy himself with studying the wound. He was pants at healing things, especially deep cuts like this. If it was already healing, Harry best wrap it and let it heal itself.

He made a rip at his robes and tore off enough fabric to wrap around the demon's hand. Grabbing the wounded hand, Harry pointedly ignored the long black nails and the Faustian mark on the back of his palm, focusing on securing the cloth around the bleeding injury. As soon as it was tied, Sebastian pulled his hand away.

With his undamaged hand, Sebastian raked through Harry's sweaty hair, upsetting it before anchoring his fingers at the roots. He jerked Harry's head back, forcing the human to look at him in the eye. Green eyes widened and dilated as the demon's face loomed, the man's crimson eyes aglow with a hungry emotion that was mirrored within Harry.

Harry's pulse seemed to accelerate faster, matching the earlier speed it possessed during the battle. A mixture of fear and lust warmed and cooled him, giving him conflicting emotions, but enough to give him a second wind. He was reminded of the way Sebastian had stood superiorly amongst the motionless corpses, and above all else, he could never forget the _feeling _of fighting alongside the demon, so in sync that they hadn't needed words.

When the lips crushed against his in possessive claiming, Harry didn't pull away, he only pressed closer. His hands grabbed at Malphas, clawing into the demon's chest in wicked thrill. He felt so dirty, already so corrupted with the way Malphas' demonic aura clashed with his human soul.

The lips moved against his fiercely, hardly romantic and every bit claiming and sloppy. Fangs caught his bottom lip and pricked it, drawing just the slightest amount of blood. Harry moaned, pressing himself up against the lithe figure of Malphas, his heart in his throat as the man's clawed hands raked down his back and through his hair with nothing short of desperation.

He found himself falling, or more specifically, being pushed. Sebastian tore his lips away from Harry's and shoved him on the ground. The smaller male fell on his arse, blinking when Malphas appeared on the same level as him, though he hadn't even seen the demon make a move to kneel on the ground.

Sebastian cupped Harry's cheek and brought him in for another kiss. Though Harry's eyes were closed, he heard Sebastian's wings snap open and rustle eagerly, a sort of stretching movement that expressed his content and eagerness. Cracking open an eye, Harry compared the wingspan to a proud bird, showing off its plumages to a prospective mate in hopes they'd be impressed.

Harry was pushed flat on his back and Sebastian immediately pressed his weight on top of him, his lithe body all but shaking with unrestrained excitement. Harry gave a sharp gasp as he felt their erections find each other, instantly igniting a beautiful, sick friction. His gasp soon turned into a moan, aroused beyond belief, but also overwhelmed with the demon's proximity.

His heart was going fast, too fast to be healthy. He could feel it through his chest and through his neck, wondering if he would die from the depravity of it all. How could his body be divided so completely into two? On one hand, the pleasure coursing through him was otherworldly, but he was also experiencing horror he'd never known before.

It was sick, immoral, and so completely addicting.

Sebastian moved above him, easily taking it upon himself to be the pursuer. He had Harry completely pinned and submissive as he ground their erections together, each thrust a smooth rolling gesture that hit all the right spots for the perfect amount of time, yet it still ignited a piercing yearning inside Harry.

"Calm," Malphas demanded with a croon, his hand against Harry's chest and poised directly above his racing heart. "Calm down, pet."

Sweat beading across his forehead, Harry whimpered and threw his head back, trying to find an anchor to keep his pulse down, but refusing to find it. It felt so _good_. He wouldn't last long, anyway. With the delicious way Sebastian found his rhythm, Harry would climax before his heart would give out.

Warm hands curled around Harry's neck and raised his head just slightly off the ground. Lips traced the column of his throat and sucked at his adam's apple. Harry curled his hands into Malphas' long hair, torn between pulling dominantly at the roots and pressing him closer. His world was in a whirlwind, his vision spinning, but the lips against him and the body above him were all solid anchors to reality.

He nuzzled Sebastian's cheek, breathing unevenly into the demon's ear. His hips thrust upward in a frenzied rhythm, hoping to take more of Sebastian's friction than what he was receiving. Not long after, his whole body froze before he shuddered in a mind-blowing orgasm. From his head, down to his toes, tremors danced and caused his body to twitch and jerk. He cried out in victory, clutching at Malphas as if his life depended on it.

Above him, Malphas grabbed his chin and kissed him deeply, his own body shaking with a strong climax. "We can be great, you know," he whispered throatily into Harry's ear. "Together."

Harry's stomach knotted at the words and his eyelids fluttered, his body exhausted, his magic exhausted. "We already are," he replied drowsily. His eyes opened as he felt Sebastian's erection against his own softening groin, but then remembered the demon had a bottomless pit of sexual appetite.

His pulse began to slow, still relatively high with dim aftereffects of fear, but it was slow enough to lull Harry into a state of drowsiness. He was aware of Malphas rustling with something and later found it to be his trousers. The demon hovered closer to Harry and liquid-coated fingers touched his lips.

"Lick."

Harry struggled to open his eyes, his eyelids far too heavy for him. The liquid was almost gel-like and incredibly pungent as Sebastian forced his fingers inside his mouth. It dawned on him that the demon was forcing Harry to taste his seed. Before he fell unconscious, Harry had a sinking feeling that orally ingesting Malphas' seed would probably be just as effective as sexually transmitting it.

The fear of turning into a demon was strong, but even more so, sleep was an unbeatable foe Harry ultimately fell victim to.

**Deliver Us**

Harry hadn't remembered sleeping so well before. Usually he caught a handful of hours before he forced himself to wake up from the nightmares. Last night, however, had been such a dreamless sleep, Harry wondered if he'd been drugged with Dreamless Sleep potion. Even his pillow had drool on it, evidence in itself that he had slept soundlessly.

Green eyes gradually cracked open. The first thing he was aware of was the tray of breakfast next to his bed, assortments ranging from fresh fruit to buttered croissants. The second thing he was aware of was a strange sated feel in his stomach, a sensation he only got after battle or a good—

Romp in the sheets…

His lashes fluttered as he recalled the events from last night. The battle was semi-successful, though Harry reluctantly admitted he would need more help than just Sebastian during the final battle. As for the 'romp', that had been just as successful, or at least successful enough in unknotting the unresolved sexual tension in his stomach. His whole body was sore and he had a feeling it resulted more from his time with Malphas than the battle itself.

"It didn't work, did it?" Harry goaded with a coy smirk. He opened an eye and peered at the figure sitting at the edge of his mattress. "I'm still human." He waved his hand in the direction of a leering Sebastian. "Look, no black fingernails! No sudden urge to prance around in high-heeled boots, eh?"

Crimson eyes remained unimpressed with Harry's provoking. In fact, if Harry hadn't gotten to know Sebastian so well the past few days, he'd even be unnerved with the demon's dark, foul expression on his face. Thinking back to Sebastian's request to treat him as an 'equal' and to see things from his point of view, Harry sobered and laid his head back on the pillow.

Sebastian must have brought him into the Phantomhive Manor last night. The room was unfamiliar to Harry, though he had his suspicions that it was Sebastian's assigned rooms in the servant quarters. The demon had even stripped Harry's robes and boots, a rather unsettling notion considering Harry hadn't even stirred once.

"You're fortunate it didn't work, anyway," Harry informed stiffly.

"And why would that be?" Sebastian raised a perfect eyebrow, his butler persona charming and rather pretty compared to his demonic appearance.

"I said I didn't want to be turned into a demon. Perhaps it was my body rejecting your—your attempts at turning me." He propped his head upon his open palm and considered the demon. "There are other ways to work this out without relying on me turning into a demon," he tried to console. "I could summon you, Malphas, whenever I arrive in a new timeline."

Sebastian lifted a lip, showing perfectly white teeth that were clenched in a cruel grimace. "Do you think I haven't considered that route? You jump alternative universes. There is a strong possibility that you may not even be my mate in that universe. I have never met you before this, which means you will never travel to the past and meet my younger self. As for any future jumping, I refuse to wait decades, years—"

"Even when 'years' goes by in a blink of an eye for you?"

"For you to show up," Sebastian continued, ignoring Harry's barb. "I also refuse the prospect of a different version of myself having you. Timeline jumping is a perplexing circumstance. No one truly understands how timelines intercept besides one person."

Harry exhaled lowly at the mention of Death. "You're a fallen angel…" he started hesitantly, mindful of the way Sebastian's eyes flashed immorally at that. "Is there hope for—?"

"Redemption?" Sebastian chuckled lowly, flashing his fangs. "There is not hope for that. I much prefer where I am now."

The wizard rubbed his eyes. "Even if there is a chance of figuring out a short-term solution to _this_, there is always the long-term conflict to consider. I will eventually… the world will eventually end, you know. There will come a time when I can no longer be reborn because there is no earth left. I know my soul will pass on to the afterlife, but probably not to _your _realm."

"You think you have a soul worthy enough for _His _kingdom?"

Harry peered at Sebastian. "It doesn't matter. I'm destined to go there," he said shortly, remembering how Death had informed him that they'd walk hand-in-hand to the afterlife. "What I'm trying to say is that we'd still be separated, even then. You don't want redemption and I –right now—am unwilling to go to hell. "

Sebastian rocked forward on the mattress and leaned close to Harry. His eyes were narrowed suspiciously. "What are you insinuating, Harry?" he purred chillingly.

Unafraid, and far more stimulated at the use of his name, Harry simply lifted his chin. "Maybe we shouldn't go further." It was an honest suggestion, but he also wanted to see how committed Sebastian was with this… _this _relationship_. _

Silence and stillness came from the butler as he sat perched on the mattress, simply staring at Harry. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" A slippery smile crossed his lips. "I have no intention of letting you wander unclaimed. Perhaps if you'd shed that secrecy you love to cloak yourself with, we can work out something else. The questions I posed to you last night before the ball are still unanswered."

Harry pushed off from his lounging position and sat up, hoping to discourage Sebastian from continuing his close inspection. Unfortunately, the scrutiny continued and Harry grabbed the bowl of fruit from the side table and used it to preoccupy himself. "I will," he eventually conceded. "I promise to tell you about Death, my past lives, Undertaker, and the circumstances surrounding my immortality. _In due time_. I'd like to… ask Death something before I tell you."

He wasn't looking at Sebastian, but he could feel the ire coming from the demon. Harry chewed on the piece of strawberry, dragging his feet in admitting that he needed to ask Death a favor. There had to be a way Harry could be reborn in the same timeline, in the same year. It would be the only way he could stay with Sebastian and make the situation easier for both.

But he needed to know Death's answer before he told Sebastian about the Hallows. Death's answer would mean the difference between actually confessing everything to Sebastian and keeping it to himself.

"I'm more interested in knowing the runes the wizards had last night," Harry hinted, breaking the heavy silence. He needed more time to think about his relationship with Sebastian, preferably without the demon breathing down his neck. "They were demonic runes, I noticed."

Sebastian exhaled in amusement. "You always take and never give."

Harry crushed the cantaloupe between his fingers and shot the demon a glare. "I'm trying, you know. Surely, you must have noticed a difference in the way we interact."

"You're far more civilized, yes."

"More open-minded, more respectful, more on equal levels… yes, I think I'm doing bloody well." Harry scowled at the smirk on the demon's lips. "I can go back to the way things were and have no qualms about it. I don't need to be sitting here, humoring you in a discussion."

The butler raised a single hand and pressed it against his chest. "But I'm the one with the answers you want and the protection you need. It's my mission to make you come back for more."

"You're trying my patience." Harry stared into the equally stubborn and unrelenting face of Sebastian. The wizard abruptly cleared his expression into one of calm understanding. "Please, just share with me the background information regarding the runes the wizards possessed last night. Are they easy to create? Can I create one myself against the demon that's employed by the Minister?"

"They are impossible for humans to create," Sebastian replied easily. "They are created in hell."

That made Harry pause. He sat motionless, staring wide-eyed at Sebastian. "The demon is working for the Dark Lord, then? Is there more than one demon? I know the tracking in my neck came from a demon that was responsible in relaying my movements to the Ministry the day I searched for Rosa Quileute's parents." The questions spilled from his mouth and he didn't expect Sebastian to answer.

"No," the demon purred. "There is only one."

Somehow, the answer wasn't what Harry expected to hear. It was most unwelcome. The demon had to have been the one to inform the Ministry of Harry's whereabouts, it was how the rogue Aurors were able to kill Rosa's parents before Harry had the chance to speak to them. However, the Dark Lord's followers had runes protecting them against Malphas, which could have only been done in hell.

"And this… high-ranking demon was the one responsible for the runes?"

"Beleth is his name." Sebastian then leaned forward and slapped his fingers against Harry's mouth. "You do not repeat that name. I have no wish to defend you from him this morning. He'd be most anxious to come to you if you called him."

Harry pried Sebastian's gloved hand away from his mouth. "I thought the demon was a girl. I saw her clearly that night, through the flames."

The demon made a sort of shrugging motion, one that conveyed his indifference. "Demons have many forms they can take. They are often ambiguous. Beleth shows a strong and intimidating man to many when they first summon him. His, or her, true form is a doe-eyed girl, rather harmless but it is her preferred form."

"And…" Harry trailed off, his fruit abandoned in favor of the current conversation. Despite himself, he was extremely interested in what Sebastian had to say. "Is she a president of hell like you are?"

"She is a king with eighty-five legions of demons under him... her." The smile across Sebastian's face was more amused than threatened. "Rankings in hell are important to many, but at the end of the day, it comes down to having a delicious meal to sate ourselves until the next one comes along."

Harry really didn't know the inner workings of hell and he didn't know if he wanted to, but he found himself inquiring anyway. "Do you know her well?" That was a stupid question, he realized. Of course Malphas and Beleth knew one another. "She doesn't seem to think highly of you if she's willing to hand enemies runes that would possibly harm you."

Sebastian leaned forward again and stroked Harry's face, as if he were a prized doll. "There are no hard feelings for what happens above ground. We are both acting under the direction of our 'masters'. In hell, things are much different." He stared at Harry. "Though, I don't know if I would take it so lightly if she were to set her sights on you."

Green and crimson eyes dueled before Harry smirked. "It must irk you to have such a weak mate to cater to, hm?" He leaned forward and gave Sebastian a half-lidded gaze that he hoped was somewhat seductive. "So much so that you would be willing to create a rune that repels our demonic friend."

Much to his displeasure, Sebastian simply smiled. "My, you are a demanding pet, aren't you?" He pressed forward, setting his hand just inches from Harry's groin. "You forget that I demand things in return." He licked Harry's cheek before pulling away and standing.

"I'll remove that tracking on the back of your neck after you tell me your history with Undertaker." He walked to the door and placed a hand on a new pile of clothes and towels. "I will create you a rune against Beleth after you tell me the circumstances surrounding your immortality. It will help matters if we can learn to trust one another, don't you agree?"

Harry combed his fingers through his hair. "Fine," Harry bit out, but otherwise remained silent. It was rather ironic that Sebastian—Malphas—was the one encouraging trust and a healthy relationship.

"I drew a bath for you, I'm sure you're still sticky," the demon continued slyly. "You may want to rinse your mouth as well. Semen can't possibly have a good aftertaste."

Harry gave the man a deadpanned stare, trying not to think of the things Sebastian had done to him while unconscious. Desperately, he also tried to forget how he _had _woken up with an unusual aftertaste in his mouth.

"After you have eaten, bathed, and dressed, find me and I will bring you to the young master." The demon bowed at his waist and smiled pleasantly, that type of smile that only served to irritate Harry. "Last night was simply a pleasure, Harry. We must try it again soon."

"Not bloody likely," Harry muttered into his breakfast.

It wasn't long after the door shut that the wardrobe across from him began to tremble. Harry stilled, his fork poised over the eggs. The doors bulged and a persistent scratching sounded inside. Suddenly, the doors burst open and revealed a hoard of cats hidden inside. They all set their sights on Harry and came leaping out, yowling.

"_Sebastian!"_

**From Sorrow's Hold**

"A pit of corpses," Ciel lamented with wary amusement. "Why am I not even surprised?"

"I'd wager it's because you ran into your own horde of corpses not too long ago," Harry replied distractedly. He frowned down at the game, something of a mixture between checkers and chess. "It's obviously the Dark Lord's army, or part of it. I don't know if it's the same corpses that you and Sebastian discovered on your voyage, or an entirely different group."

"It seems as if we'll be chasing our tails for quite some time before we find out what the Queen and Minister have or had planned," Ciel commented darkly. "I haven't been contacted by Her Majesty as of late, but that isn't unusual. She hasn't sent any active threat against me either."

"You don't know that," Harry rebutted. "She intends for you to walk into the thick of things and get killed trying to solve the mystery surrounding the deaths of the noblemen." He inclined his head as he moved his game piece across the board.

So far, he'd only had hints that the Minister was behind something dirty, not the Queen. It was unnerving to know the demon, Beleth, had ties with _both _the Ministry and the Dark Lord. Ciel thought they were working with one another, Harry wasn't too sure. It just seemed too convenient, too black and white. Although, he wouldn't deny the fact that things weren't looking good for Minister Brown.

"The last time she was disappointed with my work, she sent someone to frame me for murder," Ciel remarked. "She isn't shy about her displeasure. If she really does want me dead, I would have expected something sooner."

Harry looked up from the game board and stared at the boy. "That sounds like a brilliant employer."

A coy, dark smile spread across the boy's lips. "I enjoy my work."

"I'm sure you do," Harry mumbled in amusement. He looked back down at the board. "Still, I want you to be cautious. The inside of this house should protect you from harm, but you must always bring Sebastian with you when you leave."

"You seem to have a lot more respect for him than the last time I spoke with you," Ciel observed slyly. "Any other time, you would have insisted that I bring _you_ along. Now you're comfortable with his abilities, I see."

Green eyes scrutinized the arrogant smirk across Ciel's face and grimaced. "He's… efficient, I suppose." He leaned back in his chair and considered the boy before him. "I promised to bring you into the Wizarding world. Perhaps we can do it sooner rather than later, as I don't know how the war will escalate."

Ciel crossed his legs and leaned his head against his curled fist. His eye studied the board intently, as if he hadn't heard Harry's comment. Not soon after, a victorious light settled in his eye and he leaned forward, executing a move on the board that took three of Harry's pieces out of play. "I would welcome any opportunity I can when it comes to a visit to the Wizarding world."

Harry remained silent for a moment before pitching his idea gradually. "I would like to bring you myself, without Sebastian." That got Ciel's attention, perhaps for all the wrong reasons. "I don't plan to attack you, if that's what you're thinking. It… it may involve your parents and I would think it best if Sebastian wasn't around to witness it. Unless, of course, you would take comfort in his presence. That can be arranged as well."

He was tense, hoping Ciel would decide to accompany him without Sebastian. If Ciel agreed to see his parents, to use the Resurrection Stone, a number of possible scenarios could occur. There might be a situation that would change Ciel's mind about the Faustian Contract. He may get the names of the ones responsible for killing the Phantomhive couple and no longer need Sebastian. If that were the case, Harry wanted a head start. He would need to be properly prepared if Sebastian came after him with revenge on his mind.

Ciel stared at Harry, his face perfectly masked. "If that's truly the case, then I would prefer to leave him at the manor. You seem to understand Sebastian well enough. If you think he shouldn't accompany us, then I trust your judgment."

Not too soon after, the door to the study slammed open and Harry stood up abruptly, expecting the worse. Unfortunately, he _did _get the worse.

"Earl," Undertaker crooned in greeting, a peeved-looking Sebastian closing in behind him. "Harry. So good to see you both. And in good health too." He held his oversized sleeves against his face and giggled as Sebastian made to grab him. The shinigami danced—more like hobbled— expertly across the room before hiding behind Harry.

"Apparently, your wards are not functioning correctly," Sebastian insulted Harry.

Breathing deeply, Harry sat back down, revealing Undertaker to the demon's glare. The shinigami quickly crouched behind the chair, playfully avoiding the advancing butler. The house seemed to groan and tremble at the demon's remark, and a loose floorboard elevated, nearly tripping Sebastian midstride.

"I told you not to insult the manor," Harry informed coolly as Sebastian leaped gracefully over the floorboard. "She takes Ciel's safety very seriously and will not willingly allow enemies into the house. Undertaker, though exceedingly infuriating, will not harm the Earl."

Ciel appeared unbothered at the interruption and continued to play. "What is it that you want?" he demanded formally. "Harrison and I are busy."

Undertaker preened under Ciel's attention and grinned up at the boy, the platinum blond fringe covering his eyes. "I predicted you needed answers again, did I not? Silly me, here I thought I was doing a service by coming to _you_." He stood up, his black cloak swaying around his feet. "I shall just go then."

Ciel and Harry and Ciel looked at one another, the latter waving his hand and magically slamming the door shut in Undertaker's face. "Nothing is _ever _a consideration with you." He swung his head around and pierced Undertaker with a dark gaze. "What is it that you want in return for answers?" As soon as the words slipped past, Harry regretted falling into Undertaker's trap.

Of course, he already _knew _what the price would be. He always had.

Undertaker didn't displease. A chain and a locket fell past his sleeve and rocked back and forth hypnotically. "I want you to make good on the rest of your bargain, Harry. The bargain we made those many years ago." Pausing theatrically, for all present, Undertaker continued with a flourish. "I want you to bring Claudia back to life."

Silence stretched before Ciel stood up, an angry scowl marring his features. "Claudia is dead," he hissed. "_No one _can bring back the dead." He turned to Harry then to Sebastian, who was currently eyeing the locket with suspicious and contemplative eyes. "Can they, Sebastian?"

Sebastian slowly turned to look at Harry, who was calmly playing his next move on the board.

"Harry can," Undertaker answered for Sebastian. "Especially with the aid of a _Horcrux_."


	12. Chapter Twelve

_**WARNING**__: In this chapter, some may find Harry's angst boring or 'annoying' (as some have put it before). The chapter also mentions __**religious**__ views. This will be the only chapter with religious views (I think). I am NOT saying one religion is better than the other. I'm not saying you need a religion. I'm not saying anything offensive, seriously. I am only giving background on Death and Malphas. _

_Thanks to those of you who took the time to review. _

**12. Chapter Twelve **

There were varying shades of disbelief across the faces of both Sebastian and Ciel. Harry could no longer sit by quietly. Ciel was wearing a rather peculiar expression of disbelief, betrayal, and hope. The boy was having all the wrong assumptions, something Harry couldn't fault. If he were in Ciel's position, with hardly any knowledge of the Wizarding world, he would be just as optimistic that there was a way to bring his parents back.

But there wasn't.

"First of all, _many _wizards have the ability to create a Horcrux before the time of their death. And any wizard can use that Horcrux and summon the spirit back to a body, not just me." He stood up from the high-backed chair. "Second of all, Claudia is not so much dead as she is _lost_. I cannot raise the dead. No one can."

"You can make someone immortal?" Ciel breathed in question, sitting back down. There was a hungry gleam in his eye at the notion of immortality, something that unnerved the only wizard in the room.

Harry exhaled shakily, shooting Undertaker a warning look as he bypassed the shinigami. Fortunately, the man remained silent and didn't make the situation more difficult than it already was. The wizard approached the young earl and crouched down in front of him. Reaching out, he grabbed the boy's chin in a strong grip, surprising both of them at the intimacy.

"Be thankful that you still think killing and blackmail darkens your soul. The act of creating a Horcrux is gruesome, depraving, and so… horrifyingly twisted." He released Ciel's chin and looked him in the eye. "Horcruxes can make someone immortal, but at a terrible price. And even then, even after you've sacrificed all your morals, you aren't _truly _immortal. There are still ways to kill you."

"Very true," Undertaker agreed pleasantly. "The one person who is trulyimmortal is Harry. Though, even that has its drawbacks, doesn't it?" He directed his question at the crouching wizard. "You still experience death. The pain and the vulnerability of being reborn never does get easier."

Harry flashed the Undertaker a cold look from over his shoulder.

"What exactly is a Horcrux?" Sebastian inquired, stepping in front of Undertaker in a fashion that claimed Harry's absolute attention.

"To put it simply, a container," Harry replied gloomily. He stood up and stripped down to his suit vest. Tossing his jacket on the chair, he stared at the locket in Undertaker's hand. "After completing a ritual that splits their soul in half, one must choose a 'container' to store it in. The container that holds the soul fragment acts as an anchor. Claudia wasn't killed because half of her soul is earthbound in that locket."

Sebastian appeared truly intrigued. "Remarkable."

Harry snapped his neck up at that. "It's _not_ remarkable," he hissed fiercely, giving Sebastian a look of pure hatred. His revulsion for the demon seemed to take the man aback, so much so that crimson eyes widened and surprise lined his features. Harry turned away, nauseated. Was he surrounded by the lowest scum known to man?

He was reminded yet again that Sebastian _was _a demon. He couldn't be angry with the man, yet found himself revolted. It should have been expected that a demon would be interested in anything that had to do with souls. Still, Malphas was once an angel, a divine entity. Harry might not have been the pure, pristine wizard he once was, but at least he had somewhat of a moral base. All of these fools surrounding him had no idea what they were praising.

"I apologize," Sebastian said, almost in an attempt to soothe Harry. "I am simply impressed that humans have come up with such a deprave solution to immortality. They never cease to amaze me in terms of getting what they want and bringing others down with them…"

Harry kept his face averted, hardly impressed with Sebastian's attempt to backtrack. If anything, the demon had just solidified Harry's frustration with him. Something had snapped inside him when not one, but two of the surrounding idiots had expressed their interest and intrigue. Perhaps he hadn't done the explanation of a Horcrux justice. Or perhaps Harry was the only one who'd experienced Horcruxes enough to see their real evilness.

"Don't get your knickers in a bundle, butler," Undertaker crooned as he swayed closer to Harry. "Our wizard here has just experienced personal traumas with Horcruxes. He was one—_oh!_"

Harry grabbed the Undertaker around the mouth and squeezed painfully. "Do not." Rage, so hot in its consumption, spread through Harry. His secrets were his own. "Give me the locket." Without waiting for invitation, Harry grabbed the chain and slouched back to his chair. His feet extended out in front of him and he crossed his ankles over the other. "Answers," he demanded gruffly.

Across from him, Ciel was poised stiffly at the edge of his chair, his one eye sharp and considering as he watched Harry. "I would like to know why you're catering to Undertaker," the boy demanded in turn. "Undertaker's answers can wait. If you truly believe Horcruxes are such an evil creation, why are you aiding him in 'finding' his lover?"

He didn't owe any explanations to Ciel. Yet, he saw honest curiosity in the boy's gaze, as if he needed confirmation. One hand slid around the armrest of the chair and clawed at it in agitation. He despised reliving the past.

"I knew Undertaker during my original timeline," Harry started curtly. "He… my son. James. He was destined to die at a young age by the hand of one of my enemies. No matter what I tried to prevent it from occurring, the day would just change and the threat would never disappear." A caustic smile crossed his lips. "_No one _can escape Death."

It was before Harry knew the extent of his Master of Death status. He'd been surprised when a man, who claimed to be a shinigami, appeared before him and informed him of his son's impending death. Naturally, Harry had been skeptical, never hearing of shinigami's beforehand, but gradually comprehending that it was the real deal.

"Like any desperate parent would, I agreed to a deal that would save my child. Unfortunately, it _was _Undertaker I was making a deal with." He ignored Undertaker's tsk of delight and kept his attention on Ciel. "He would rewrite my son's death date years and years into the future. And in return, I would save his wife from death. She was still alive at the time, but Undertaker knew about Horcruxes and requested my assistance to make her immortal."

Ciel's eye widened a fraction. "You made one?"

"I _assisted_," Harry corrected, his heart heavy. "Claudia is and always will be a Muggle. She committed the act and I performed the magic needed." Shadows crossed his face. "There isn't a day that goes by that I forget what act I committed. But no," he started when he sensed Ciel's impending question. "I never regretted what I did."

Vivid green eyes glanced impassively at Sebastian. "You believe humans will scramble over themselves to find immortality, power, and status. It's that same selfishness that drives parents to the brink of corruption when it comes to the safety and happiness of their children." He looked at a rather solemn Undertaker, knowing the same ferocity had once driven Alexander to save his son. Harry then looked at Ciel. "As I father, I would do anything for my child. Even if it corrupted my soul to the point of no return."

"But your soul isn't corrupted to that extent," Sebastian spoke to Harry's left. "Is that simply because you performed only half of the ritual?"

"I imagine," Harry spoke crisply to the demon. "Or perhaps _you _are just biased."

"Or perhaps _someone _has the ability to keep it cleansed," Undertaker injected with wicked glee, tittering loudly when Harry sent him another warning look.

Ciel edged forward again, pleasantly ignoring the palpable strain between Harry, Sebastian, and Undertaker. "But Claudia was from my time. She was on good terms with my parents until she was shot."

"I've told you once, Earl. Shinigamis can jump timelines." Undertaker perched himself at the edge of Ciel's armchair. "I simply brought her with me to this lovely era. After Harry left, we were simply _bored_."

"I'm pleased you think so highly of me," Harry mumbled. He draped the beautiful chain through his fingers in a web-like structure and rocked the locket back and forth in a steady rhythm. "Though, I can't say I missed _you_ very much." Or Claudia.

She was a wicked bitch. And according to Ciel's comment about Claudia being on good terms with his parents, it was highly likely she had her hands in the underground workings of Muggle London. Nonetheless, beneath all her misgivings, she truly did love Undertaker as much as the shinigami loved her. She wanted immortality just as much as the next power-hungry human, but she also wanted to stick close to Undertaker merely because she adored him. They were a pair destined together. It was an unconventional love, simply because shinigami's were not permitted to love and settle down.

But when did Alexander—Undertaker— ever comply with the rules? He had created an immortal wife and had attempted to create an immortal son. The league of shinigami would probably disprove of him and wish to extract proper punishment, but Death would most likely find Undertaker amusing.

"I thought you could control shinigami," Sebastian drawled suspiciously. "He was a shinigami at the time. Why not simply order him to change the death date of your son?"

And that was the foundations of Harry's dislike regarding Undertaker. The wizard stared at Undertaker from beneath his lowered lashes, displeasure making his mouth tight. An impish smile curled the shinigami's lips as he bent toward a stiff earl. Ciel tried to lean away from the fall of the shinigami's hair, a revolted grimace in place.

"How do you think I got my scars, butler?" Undertaker ran a hand through his fringe, revealing his stich-like scars across his face. "When Harry _did _find out his unique ability, he had already created the Horcrux. He came after me with a lovely vengeance." The man breathed an impressive sigh at the memory, pleasantly ignoring the distasteful stares of both Sebastian and Ciel.

Harry ignored the group and continued swinging the locket back and forth. It whispered to him, not evil and tarnished as Voldemort's once was, but with sweetness and tenderness. It professed broken, almost inaudible affections for both Harry and Alexander, curling invisible tendrils of affectionate around his arm. The Horcrux recognized Harry's magic and presence. He was the only one who could call her wandering soul back to a body.

Claudia was a Muggle and didn't possess the necessary senses that wizards did when it came to identifying magic. When the makers of a Horcrux died, they usually left their undamaged body for a few moments before being summoned back into their body. They had a connection to the Horcrux that aided them in finding their way. Others, like Voldemort, whose body was destroyed, wandered around in a bodiless form but still kept their identity because of the _connection _to their Horcrux.

Wizards sensed their Horcruxes. Muggles did not. A Horcrux may possess their soul inside, but it was the magic that made the master soul aware of its identity.

Harry assumed Claudia was a mindless form, drifting bodiless or possessing small animals like rodents or birds. There may be small recollections of who she was, but mostly, there would be nothing but primitive and mindless instincts. When Harry called her, he would draw her attention to the Horcrux, and in turn, her identity. The memories would come back, even the most recent ones, and the emotions would return, no matter how damaged they might be after splitting her soul.

It was possible from the _magic _surrounding the Horcrux. It was why Muggles could never hope to create one without the _willing _aid of a wizard.

Bringing her back was part of the deal he had made with Undertaker. Harry could have tried to avoid completing his side of the bargain now that his son had already passed on from old age, but the truth of the matter was summoning her to a body was hardly as destroying as _creating _the Horcrux. He still remembered the events that led up to incasing the soul in the locket and he felt unpleasant. The face of the sacrifice, the blood, the gore… the sheer depravity of it all. It had taken Harry two weeks to snap out of the dark haziness.

All these years later, he could still remember it. But the emotions and memories weren't as vivid, weren't as destroying.

_Claudia. Claudia._

"Harrison?"

The call was hazy and Harry subconsciously realized his eyes had closed. He was too immersed in activating the Horcrux and drowning in the two souls. He became the bridge—the conduit— between one Claudia and the other Claudia. In one hand, he held the stagnant, anchoring soul of the Claudia he knew. Miles away, he became attentive of the other soul, the master soul as it came to sudden awareness. Her consciousness was overpowering in its intensity. She focused on him, recognizing him immediately, before being drawn to her Horcrux.

There was movement on her end, a type of hurried and eager impatience. She was coming, unable to do anything but follow the enthrall of her Horcrux as it was activated under Harry's influence.

It was difficult to pull away from the master soul and her raging emotions, but Harry eventually came back to himself. He slowly opened his eyes. His body was still slumped casually against the tall back of the chair, and in his hand, he kept the locket rocking back and forth.

"Your answers, Undertaker," Harry probed casually, as if he hadn't just nodded off for Merlin knew how long. They were staring at him with disbelief and incredulity. "Why did you aid the process of animating bodies?"

Undertaker suddenly seemed to have lost more marbles than he could afford. He lunged at Harry from his position on Ciel's chair. He hardly got very far in accomplishing whatever it was he was aiming for. Sebastian flew from his perch against the wall and landed in a crouch in front of Harry.

"The deal was to bring her back first," Undertaker prompted threateningly.

There was a hint of desperation around him that Harry had never seen before. For all his craziness and aloofness, Undertaker really _did _resemble a human. He had their emotions, their fears. While Undertaker would never express it, Harry knew the shinigami suspected that the Horcrux wasn't working. The man may had observed Harry's timeline with Voldemort, and seeing for himself that Horcruxes _do _work, but creating one for a Muggle had never been done.

He was panicky, Harry realized.

"She's already on her way," Harry replied calmly, trying to placate the man and keep his own temper in check. Ciel was looking at him as if he were crazy and Sebastian looked as if he wanted to attack Undertaker doubtless of the man's yield. "She's in flight… as a bird. In the meantime, you can explain what your purpose was for animating those corpses."

The shinigami seemed to pause before slumping back to his original posture. "It was for fun, mostly," he started lightly. "Or maybe it was for curiosity. I can't remember." He pressed a finger against his inane smile. "You know I simply can't resist playing with them when they are cold and silent. They're far more beautiful that way, don't you agree?"

Harry stopped swinging the locket. "I refuse to continue if you refuse to give me concrete information." His eyes were hard as they stared at Undertaker. "Who the bloody hell was behind these experiments?"

"The Queen."

It really shouldn't have surprised him, but it was enough to leave Harry speechless for a moment or two. "Sebastian told me it was an underground society that was responsible for the majority of the experiments. They—"

"Were manipulated by the Queen from behind the scenes," Undertaker interrupted. "Only a _few _were acting as her puppets. The rest of the group did not know she was the true force behind most of it." He pressed his baggy sleeves against his mouth and issued a muffled chuckle. "When her husband died, she's fancied herself in sciences of all sorts, particularly those that claim to bring back the dead."

Harry leaped from his chair and neared Undertaker. Sebastian stood tall, keeping at least one shoulder between Harry and the shinigami. "I want to know who was whispering in her ear," he demanded icily. "I don't believe she had the audacity to take hundreds of bodies—"

"Her Majesty _has _grieved heavily for her husband," Ciel interrupted calmly. "I think she has the power and the indifference to collect bodies for an experiment that _may _bring back her husband. Even if there was but a slim chance it would work, she would still risk it on knowledgeable doctors and a shinigami."

The wizard turned his heel and approached the closed windows and drapes. He touched the rich material of the curtains before fisting it. Leaning slightly against the window, he stared listlessly at his raised hand, in particular the gold locket and the Resurrection Stone. Humanity truly was warped. There were still good people out there, Harry knew. But those who had the power, the money, and the reasons, would jump at a chance to tamper with the nature of life itself.

"These _few _people that knew the Queen was behind the experiments…" Harry trailed off and closed his eyes briefly. "These people you mentioned… they wouldn't happen to be the five noble families who were murdered these past few weeks, would they?"

"Fufu. Too right you are, Harry." Undertaker seemed entirely unbothered by this, but that was to be expected. "She was cleaning up her dirty work when the experiment turned out a failure. Of course, there were more men connected too closely to the project and eliminated. Their deaths were never reported as front page news."

"Do you know of any wizards connected to this?" Ciel demanded when Harry remained silent.

"The only Wizarding influences I _know _of were the five wizards placed in each of the murdered noblemen's households. The ones acting as Muggle butlers or maids. They were not involved with the experiments. They were just… conveniently placed at the scene of the crime when the Muggle noblemen and their families were killed."

"And the bodies?" Sebastian pressed. "What happened to the animated corpses that were on the voyage?"

The shinigami sniffed at that. "The last time I laid eyes on them was the same time you and the Earl last saw them. I don't have any inclination of where they went. Your guess is as good as mine."

The corpses that the Queen and the Muggles were responsible for could have been the same batch Harry had seen in Elias Malfoy's home. The Dark Lord could have found these animated corpses and believed them to be useful for the war. It could be as simple as that.

However, where did that leave the Ministry? Why were there Auror trainees with the Muggle noblemen? The Muggle noblemen and their staff were murdered by the _Avada Kedavra _that much was obvious. In addition, the bodies of the Auror trainees were removed from the morgue soon after their deaths. The Aurors had also sent out rogues to kill Rosa Quileute's parents before Harry had the chance to question them.

No. Somehow, the Ministry was also involved with this. Were they a direct partner in the Queen's experiments? Did they have their own experiments? Were they trying to hide what the Queen had done?

The Dark Lord's participation in all this was also a mystery. There were three parties somehow involved in this and Harry felt as if he was constantly being pushed back to square one when new details came out.

"I can hear the clogs of your brain working from all the way over here, Harry!" Undertaker called in glee. "Besides admiring how luxurious those drapes are, what else are you thinking?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at his white-knuckled hold on the curtains. "I'm thinking that you're leaving out something very essential to this whole scenario, Alex." Without turning, he knew a wide, childish smile had crossed Undertaker's face. "We know each other fairly well. You're hiding something."

Abruptly, the lithe wizard was taken by the waist. He was forced into the role of a dance partner as Undertaker swept him in a few dizzying twirls. The shinigami's large cloak swirled between their strides, somehow abstaining from tripping them. Suddenly, Undertaker executed a dip, keeping Harry suspended in an uncomfortable position, his back arching backward.

"I think you would find the identity of the Queen's secret advisor interesting." Undertaker's scarred, yet somewhat handsome face stared down at the wizard in his arms. "You've never met him, but that blond wizard you're so fond chasing after—"

"Malfoy," Harry supplied stiffly, clutching at the arms that held him just inches from the ground.

"Yes, Malfoy's _wife _has a Squib for a brother. Imagine that! How scandalous!" Undertaker flashed a toothy grin. "Oliver Felix is his name. And he has many things he can advise the Queen. But there is one thing that concerns me, Harry." At Harry's raised eyebrow, Undertaker continued. "You simply don't possess the necessary flexibility to be a proficient dance partner."

The arms abruptly released him and Harry landed on the ground with a grunt. "Perhaps the butler can teach you some flexibility." The shinigami breezed past a stiff and scowling Sebastian, his innuendo clear enough to both the wizard and demon.

"I am not familiar with Oliver Felix," Ciel informed Undertaker, a hint of insult in his tone. He may have been the Queen's watchdog, but apparently, the Queen was still able to keep her own secrets and her own secret advisors.

"You were flexible enough last night," Sebastian muttered softly to Harry as he hauled the wizard off the floor.

Harry glared fiercely at Sebastian when he felt his ears grow warm. "I'm going to pretend as if your mind is not always in the gutter," he whispered to the demon.

"What's there to pretend about?" the demon pressed. "While we didn't do much to show off your flexibility, it was a very generous preview of what's to come. I was not disappointed." Only a sliver of a fang glittered in Sebastian's open-mouthed smile. "Is that a blush I see?"

Harry tugged his hand from the white glove and turned his shoulder on Sebastian. He ignored the taunting eyes in favor of approaching the window once again. With a sharp tug of his wrists, he opened the drapes, allowing strong sunlight to spill through. He barely opened the window in time before a bird came diving inside. Before the white dove had a chance at free reign, Harry's left arm raised and his hand quickly enclosed around the bird.

It screeched, _she _screeched at the sudden assault. The locket's chain was already entwined through his fingers, acting as a second barricade for the dove. Amusing, really. He was holding the soul of one woman in a single hand.

"Hello, Claudia," he greeted darkly. Holding the bird up to eye level, he flashed a lethal smile. "A dove, how incredibly… unfitting for you." Granted, she hadn't been herself when her soul had desperately possessed a living creature. Nonetheless, Harry thought it humorous.

He turned suddenly, holding the dove at chest level and forcing her to look at the occupants in the room. "We're finished here, I imagine." Harry glanced at a marginally flabbergasted Ciel to a transfixed Sebastian. "I hope you have a _body_ prepared," he addressed to Undertaker.

Undertaker was by his side in an instant. With his fringe pushed away, brilliant green eyes were revealed. They were focused intently on the dove, half-skeptical and half-admirable. "I'm an Undertaker, aren't I?"

Harry contemplated the remark. Ciel said Claudia had been shot. No matter how gruesome the wound, Harry was sure Undertaker could have fixed her body back to perfection. Her original body was most likely being preserved perfectly somewhere in Undertaker's shop.

"May I come?" Ciel asked full of expectancy. Of course he didn't intend to be denied. The earl was hardly ever rebuffed.

"No." Harry's tone held no room for argument. He was still ruffled over this whole ordeal. It was even worse that Ciel and Sebastian imaged Horcruxes as God's divine intention. The last thing he wanted them to see was a woman being brought back to 'life'. "It will not take long. The majority of the ritual has already been completed… over one hundred years ago."

Turning a cheek on Ciel's clear displeasure, Harry held out an arm for Undertaker to take. Once the spindly hand curled around his arm, Harry Disapparated.

**Deliver Us**

She was just as how Harry remembered. Flawless skin, perfectly spun golden hair, and aristocratic features. Whatever Undertaker had done to preserve the body, he had done so masterfully.

Getting the master soul back into the body had been a simple task. As soon as Harry saw her chest heave and her lashes flutter in consciousness, he dropped the locket on the table with a clatter and disappeared from Undertaker's shop. There was no need to see the two reunite. He had no desire to see them any longer than necessary.

That part of his past was now closed. The chapter had been completed. Undertaker had always been a loose end to Harry's original timeline. The knowledge that Harry would someday have to make good on his bargain had always been a reminder, a distant memory in the back of his mind. It was a bit bittersweet. He was relieved it was over, but he still felt heavy with remorse, even after all those years.

He stood on Undertaker's entryway for a few calming moments, giving his memories time to torment him. One could argue that he was one-hundred and fifty years old and living too much in the past. Harry could agree with them. But then he remembered Albus Dumbledore, who was past a century old and still tormented over what happened with his sister. Even if time could heal wounds, it would never erase the most painful memories of the mind.

Suddenly, Harry spied a man a distance away at a park. The man's golden curls acted as a halo around his bowed head. It didn't help that the sun was strong today, reflecting brightly off the gold and blond strands. Sitting alone on the park bench, the man threw seeds on the ground, attracting a flock of pigeons.

"Bloody hell."

The wizard shifted uncomfortably before forcing himself across the cobblestone road. Trust Death to appear when Harry had just the _slightest _desire to speak with him. He supposed he might as well swallow his pride and ask the man a favor.

"Harry," Death greeted him merrily without looking up. "You seem rather solemn today. That is, more solemn than usual."

Harry shoved his hands in his trousers before falling down on the bench next to the entity.

Brilliant and clear blue eyes peeked at him slyly. "It wouldn't have to do with Alexander and Claudia, could it? It is their misgivings in life, not yours." He tossed another handful of seeds at the gathering birds. "But that is what I admire about you, Harry. If you had my ability of seeing your soul throughout the years, you would be amazed at the amount of goodness still left in you. Even with the power you wield, you are still grounded, still moral."

"I find that doubtful."

Death hummed lowly, seeming rather solemn himself. "Perhaps there are a few damning qualities about you, but your core is still pure. Very pure."

Harry squinted at the man next to him. He'd originally thought Death was just _death. _But he was gradually beginning to put the pieces together. "You're an angel, aren't you? I hadn't given it much thought, but I remember you gave the name Michael." It was hard not to think of an angel with the subtle glow around him and the man's dislike for demons. "The Catholicism view of Michael is…" he paused, trying to recall the Catholic belief.

"Flawed in its telling," Death finished for Harry. A strange smile graced his lips. "You see, humans have distorted and fabricated many religious views. They've allowed prejudice and discrimination to flaw the truth. There are several religions in the world. Not _one_ of them is wrong, right, or better than the other. In the end, all that truly matters is how you've conducted yourself with the one life you've been given."

"You don't think that religions—"

"No, no," Death interrupted again, waving a hand. "I don't want to get theoretical with you. I believe every religion has truths, many truths. I also think it gives many humans a purpose, a direction in life, and above all else, hope." He inclined his head marginally. "And, yes, I suppose you could say I resemble the Catholicism view of Michael, among other religious versions."

"Michael is an archangel… _you _are an archangel…" Harry said faintly, reeling at the truth. "If I remember correctly, you have four main roles."

Death looked at him in amusement. "Look at you struggle to impress me. How cute. You only need to know I am the angel of death. Other information is irrelevant or too complicated to explain to someone as impatient as yourself."

Harry scowled at the entity. "I thought you were a skeleton."

Blue eyes twinkled. "Out of all the possible questions you could ask, you choose the most childlike observation." He happily ignored Harry's unimpressed stare and ran his hand through the bag of birdseed. "The grim reaper, yes, I am that. I told you once that I come in many forms. I prefer my angelic appearance around you, minus the wings of course. The grim reaper is usually a form I take when I am actively reaping souls."

The wizard stretched out on the bench and stared at the pigeons. There was another question he wanted to ask Death, something that would lead to his request. He wondered if Death already knew that Harry would ask him about staying with Malphas. The entity had known about Undertaker and Claudia, but then again, Death _did _have other duties.

He gazed from the ground pigeons to the two crows in the budding trees. With just a caress to the Elder Wand, Harry conjured a privacy ward around them, enough to keep the crows deaf and other demons should they hear their true name being called.

"Another myth about Michael is that you are the leader of God's army. They say you were the one responsible for the conquest during the war of heaven. That was when some of the angels fell and became demons." He bit the side of his cheek. "So that means you knew of Malphas before and after he fell."

There was a certain icy quality that had sprung up around Death. "I did."

Harry didn't know if Death was agreeing to his battle victory or for knowing Sebastian. "I imagine that your hate for him stems from the fact that he is a fallen angel—"

"A demon," Death interrupted hastily. "He has no claim to the title of angel, even if it is _fallen _angel." He kept his face averted from Harry. "Many demons despise humans. They are jealous of them. Malphas is not one of them. He thinks little of them, but he was not one to look upon them with petty scorn. Malphas was simply _bored _and decided to follow the others."

A frown marred the man's handsome features. "Though created as good beings, some demons freely chose evil, their sin being unforgivable because of the irrevocable character of their choice, not because of any defect in the infinite divine mercy," he quoted. He sprinkled more seed on the ground with a certain heaviness. "Redemption for _them _is impossible. The way they have conducted themselves, the sins they have committed—"

"Is irrevocable," Harry interrupted, feeling overwhelmed with the good and the evil, the black and the white. "It's natural for angels and demons to clash, I understand that."

"Then what are you insinuating, Harry?" There was no humor on Death's face as he turned to give Harry his attention. "Malphas has taken an interest in you. Any demon that comes across you would be interested. Your soul is extraordinary for a human."

Harry sensed he was upon unstable ground, but he ventured on it anyway. "When I die, I would like to be reborn here, in the same time period and in the same universe."

Death reached out a hand and touched Harry's throat. "Foolish. Have you really been seduced by the darkness?" His finger seemed to go through Harry's throat and into the back of his neck where Malphas' mark stained his skin. "What has he been saying to sway your opinion of him? He's clearly marked you as his own."

Releasing an irritated sigh, Harry held the blue gaze. "He's my mate."

One blink was enough before Death tipped back his head and laughed. He withdrew his hand and braced it against his leg. "I don't mean to laugh." He cleared his throat, trying to pull himself together under Harry's impassive eyes. "Demons do not have something as convenient as a _mate_."

Harry stiffened and narrowed his eyes into slits. "You're lying."

While dark in nature, nothing but humor bathed Death's features. "Demons are incapable of feeling anything besides foul emotions." He looked at Harry seriously. "What Malphas was feeling was arousal at encountering a soul as seasoned as yours. Even for being as old and wise as he is, Malphas has never encountered a soul such as yours. No demon has. Many would think it was some destined thing as _mates_." Another chuckle bubbled. "But I would never imagine _Malphas _as being so naïve and smitten. Unless…"

Already feeling a cold and stabbing emotion in his stomach, Harry simply inclined his head for Death to continue.

"Unless he thought he could manipulate you more easily," Death continued quietly, losing his mirth. "He can see an individual's true desires. By using this against you, he can get closer and determine a way to consume your soul. He'd be sated for decades if he succeeded."

"You really don't like demons," Harry observed lowly.

"I don't."

He didn't know what to think, to believe. On one hand, he was suspicious of Death's claim based on his dislike for demons. Naturally, he would rebuff what Sebastian had claimed and ridicule the situation. On the other hand, Sebastian had never explained how he knew Harry was his mate. It seemed like such a _ridiculous _claim now that Harry thought about it.

Hadn't he complimented Sebastian once on the demon's acting? Such deadly and brilliant acting was a dangerous trait to possess. Harry liked to think he could see under acting by now, but when it came to a demon many, _many _more centuries older than him, he couldn't be so sure.

It made him almost ill. Buried underneath many layers of defense, Harry allegedly had the burning desire for companionship. Malphas had been happy to point it out twice. He'd been using that against Harry. By leading Harry along and giving him mere crumbs of what he truly wanted, Sebastian received Harry's proximity in return.

Had he slipped? Was Harry turning into a simpleton? It wasn't as if Harry was _afraid _of having his soul consumed. But he was bothered over the prospect of being used and played for a fool.

"Even if it _was _true," Death continued softly, "I still wouldn't be able to help you. Your soul would not be able to stay in place after your death."

And with that confession, Harry felt something inside him shatter.

His anger and suspicions died and turned cold. The revelation made him realize how comfortable he'd been getting. It was originally just about fighting the Dark Lord, of experiencing life through dueling and battling. Somewhere along the lines, it turned into establishing relationships, of daring to have something that he would lose in the end. It didn't matter if Sebastian was his mate or not.

All this time, he was more worried over bending his neck and asking Death for a favor. He never considered the possibility that Death would say _no_.

He supposed, in a way, he was grateful for the wakeup call. Things didn't need to change, Harry would still assist Ciel and Sebastian, but he would need to be conscious of the realities. Getting closer to Sebastian was out of the question. He refused to get close enough to taste the forbidden fruit, only for it to be taken away so cruelly. The demon would no doubt sense a change in behavior and Harry intended to tell him the truth. Sebastian was too good an alley and a partner to lose over something they both couldn't have.

Still, there was a hallowed emptiness inside him. It made it difficult to breathe, to feel alive. His spirit seemed to shudder and shrivel, darkening and cooling into solid jadedness.

"What I can do, however, is help you remove all that taint on the back of your neck," Death offered softly.

His hand moved closer to the nape of Harry's neck. Sensing no rebuttal from the motionless and impassive wizard, Death made contact with the wizard's skin. Instead of Michael's warm flesh, Death's boney fingertips prodded at Malphas' mark and sent a sharp chill down Harry's spine.

"Not only has Malphas added his taint, but…" Death trailed off and his fingers froze against the demonic mark. "Beleth_._"

Lifeless green eyes slowly turned to look at his companion. Beleth was the demon who seemed to be working for everyone. The Dark Lord's followers had runes that warded Malphas away, compliments of Beleth. The Ministry had been informed of Harry's movements, compliments of Beleth and the tracking implanted in his body. Cynically, Harry wondered if the Queen would soon make use of Beleth.

Now, it seemed as if Death knew Beleth just as well as he knew Malphas.

"Are you going to remove it?" Harry pressed stiffly. "The mark and the tracking?" He filed away Death's reaction for later, knowing he would never get a straightforward answer if he asked.

Death seemed to focus back on Harry. His fingers were a cold weight on Harry's neck. There was no special incantation, no fancy movement on Death's behalf. Malphas' mark simply seared angrily before disappearing. Harry didn't need a mirror to determine it was gone. The familiar sensation of a collar around his neck had disappeared.

There was a heavy silence that passed between the two. Death slowly withdrew his hand from Harry's neck, his fingers unabashedly caressing the wizard's throat as he withdrew. Harry stared straight ahead, ignoring the prolonged contact. He frowned, feeling heavy with jadedness and isolation.

And yet, there was a small flame that flickered and seared. His fists curled tightly and his eyes narrowed.

"I want to know _why,_" he demanded crossly. He tossed his shoulders back and assessed Death in a new light, a distrustful light. "I assume it has nothing to do with your prejudice against Malphas and everything to do with your lack of ability."

Death paused at the subtle insult, appearing to need a few moments to grasp what Harry was implying. "Even if your soul is tied with mine, you are still human. One cannot go against the force of nature. Your soul cannot be reborn in the same timeline, the same universe. It needs to move on to another world." He spread his hands out in a gesture of surrender. "Even I am not as powerful as you may think. Time, mother nature, and fate are all forces that oppose me from time to time."

Harry stood up, shoving his hands back into his trousers. "Don't treat me like a bloody idiot," he accused Death.

The angel of death stood up just as well, his frame towering over Harry. In fact, the man seemed to grow taller. "I fail to see what you're accusing me of."

Hardly intimidated, Harry raised his chin. "I know what a shinigami does. They collect souls, they cut Cinematic Records, they ward away unruly demons, and above all else, they _review _a soul. They have the ability to determine if a soul is reaped or if it needs to continue living. They choose the latter if that person has something more to offer the world. If shinigamis, who were created by _you_, can keep a soul grounded in the body, why can't you?"

Death shook his head. "That happens rarely and it happens if the body is not yet dead." He continued to grow taller. "It is impossible to keep you grounded to one universe."

Harry took a step back as the handsome man began to cloak himself in black. Wisps of darkness engulfed his white-clad frame before transforming it into a black hooded cloak. Harry craned his neck to spy the skeleton's skull inside the depths of the hood. He wasn't frightened. If he could swallow Malphas' demonic aura, he could withstand the grim reaper.

Muggles and the surroundings scenery seemed to disappear completely. The sky darkened and the world turned into shades of black and grey. Death curled a skeletal hand around his scythe and peered down at Harry.

"I will always come when you call me," he informed, his voice now cold and raspy. "I will always aid you against a threat. I will always give you advice if you ask. I will always lend you my power if you request it."

Harry stood his ground and stared up at the tall figure that had to be over ten feet tall. Power he hadn't noticed before cloaked the grim reaper, power that was awe-inspiring and overwhelming in its intensity.

"But I must tell you the truth," Death whispered. "You are not so much _my _master as you are the master of death. Your orders may not always be granted and I cannot always move mountains for you. And above all else, I refuse to aid a demon, especially if he sugarcoats his lust into something as ridiculous as a mate."

The wizard stayed silent, not out of intimidation but of a loss of what to say. He _had _assumed he was Death's—Michael's— master. How utterly ridiculous had he been? When they coined it Master of Death, they had meant the conqueror of death. Michael had led Harry to believe he served Harry. And while Death served Harry to a degree, he wasn't so much controlled as he was doing it on his own free will.

A large skeletal hand reached over and placed itself on Harry's head. "Please do not take me as your enemy. We will always be tied to one another. I am only looking out for you."

Death sighed at Harry's continued silence. He hesitated before withdrawing his hand for Harry's head. With sharp grace, Death slashed his scythe in midair. It seemed to rip the air, enough to create a sizeable tear that led to pure blackness. Once Death stepped through the slash, it sealed back up and color returned to the world.

Voices of Muggles and birds resumed as if they had never been silenced. Harry sat back down on the bench, silently contemplating the events of this morning.

**From Sorrow's Hold**

Harry forced his mind back to business, a purely professional resolve surrounding him.

His first step to solving this bloody mess was to get his hands on Oliver Felix. If Oliver Felix was connected to Malfoy, Harry had his assumptions that Malfoy was influencing his brother-in-law, even if said brother-in-law was a Squib. And because Oliver Felix was a Squib, Harry had a very large advantage over him.

He _would _get answers. The sooner they solved this mystery, the sooner he could leave Britain completely. No longer bearing Malphas' mark, Harry had a freedom to go places without the demon's knowledge. If Harry survived the end of this, he would need to leave Britain, preferably to America, perhaps even France.

Whether Malphas really was lying, or Death simply didn't have the power or desire to keep Harry in this universe, Harry didn't care. It was time to sharpen his focus on this mystery surrounding the Queen, the Ministry, and the Dark Lord. He was sick of being left in the dark.

He would be getting answers. And he would be relentless until he had this solved.

His cold resolve must have shown on his face, for the Phantomhive gardener, Finnian, popped up from his position by the flowerbed and sent out a tentative greeting. "Hello, Professor."

Harry was reminded once again that he was Ciel's _tutor_. He nodded sharply at the boy and made his way up to the manor. He intended to ask Sebastian for his help in cornering and capturing Oliver Felix. While the man was a Squib, Harry wouldn't take his chances.

"The young master left with Mister Sebastian. The young master was summoned by Her Majesty."

The wizard came to a sudden standstill. "Excuse me?" he asked icily.

Finnian blanched at the expression Harry wore and took a couple steps back. "I—I just wanted to let you know. In case you were wanting to speak with the young—"

"No," Harry interrupted. "They were summoned by the Queen. How long ago did they leave?" How _foolish_. How could Sebastian allow Ciel to accept summons by the Queen?

_Simply because his master's orders are final. _Sebastian could try to persuade Ciel against accepting the summons, but he was powerless in the end. And who knew, maybe Sebastian was sadistic enough to go along with it. Harry had his suspicions as to why Ciel had accepted in the first place. The young earl wanted to show Sebastian and Harry he held just as much power as they did, that he had just as much control and contribution as the rest of them.

The boy was probably insulted at being held back from Undertaker's shop and Elias Malfoy's ball. Considering he had a powerful demon at his fingertips, Ciel decided he could make his own decisions without Harry's guidance.

A part of Harry wanted to let them go by themselves. And that may be a very possible consideration. But he wanted to give Ciel a proper thrashing before he met with the Queen.

Standing directly in the flowerbed, the Phantomhive gardener scratched his head in uncertainty. "I don't remember. An hour maybe?" He looked at Harry warily. "The Queen is in London. It takes about two hours to get there from here."

Harry was gone before the boy could properly finish. As soon as he was out of sight, Harry's body turned intangible and he flew in the direction of London.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

_A HUGE thank you to those of you who reviewed. I actually had enough time to get away and write! As a treat, I set up a portfolio of the fan art a few readers have created for this story. It may/may not be on my profile by the time you read this. They are all really nice pieces. Thanks to the artists ;) _

**13. Chapter Thirteen**

Catching up to the carriage proved easier than Harry imagined.

Once he was within distance of the carriage, he Apparated inside, appearing out of thin air in the seat across from Ciel and Sebastian. He startled the boy enough to earn a gasp from the normally impassive façade. Harry supposed he couldn't blame the boy, as it _was_ an abrupt appearance. Though, he couldn't help but to be vindictively amused.

Until frustration took its place.

"What are you _doing_?" Harry hissed. Leaning forward, he barely gave the Earl enough room to breathe. He grabbed the carriage seat on either side of Ciel and peered closely into the single blue eye. "Have you gone insane?"

From the corner of his eye, he was well aware of the dark, threatening aura coming from the demon. Sebastian was an unmoving form, his eyes piercing as they watched Harry. From the eyes of his watchful crows, Malphas knew perfectly well that his mark was gone from Harry. And he knew that Death had been the one to remove it. Yet he had enough restraint and pride to keep silent on the subject in front of Ciel, choosing to convey his displeasure through an unnerving stare.

Harry ignored him, his stomach clenching hotly as he remembered Death's words. Though, dwelling on it now wouldn't do any good. He had to brush off the situation with Sebastian in favor of focusing on the spoiled brat across from him.

"You have the audacity to call _me _insane?" Ciel inquired haughtily, recovering from Harry's sudden appearance. "You have a larger claim to insanity than I can ever hope to achieve."

"That's neither here nor there," Harry shot back, inclining closer to Ciel's face. Their noses were nearly touching and Harry refused to give the uncomfortable Earl personal space. "I knew you wanted to die, kid. I just thought you wanted to die by the hand of a parasitic demon, not a Muggle hag."

"Sebastian, eject Harrison from the carriage!"

"You're pride is getting in the way of your common sense," Harry continued. Sebastian wouldn't expel him unless it was a direct order from Ciel. "You have power, I understand that. You don't need to do something so risky to prove it to me. The Queen is trying to kill you."

"I am not trying to prove anything to you," Ciel argued. "Her Majesty wouldn't—"

"Will you quit calling her that?" Harry sighed and moved away, slouching in his seat across from the two. He placed a hand against his forehead and closed his eyes briefly. "You're wrong. She would kill you. What's an Earl to a Queen? Nothing but a useful pawn until he is disposable."

"You don't understand the intricate that is politics."

"Oh?" Harry exhaled in amusement. Crossing his legs, he leveled Ciel with a look of skepticism. All his frustration seemed to wane and thin. He was just so _tired._ "I am very curious to know what a ten-year-old—"

"Thirteen."

"… boy knows about politics that a one hundred and fifty-year-old man does not. Please. Enlighten me." He raised his eyebrows, patiently waiting for a response. When a minimal, barely-there flush stained the tips of the boy's ears, Harry withheld another sigh. "I understand you have a reputation to live up to, Ciel. I also understand that you are intelligent, manipulative, and cunning. You are a formable enemy to have, I respect that."

"_Don't _try to patronize me," Ciel whispered chillingly. His single eye narrowed as it regarded Harry. "You can spout all the compliments you'd like, but we both know I am nothing compared to you and your power. Your regard means nothing to me. If anything, it's insulting."

Harry stared at him before looking out the window. They were close to the palace, in fact, he could see it from his viewpoint. It didn't seem as if he'd successfully convince Ciel to stop his madness before they arrived at the Queen's lair. "You may think wizards are indestructible, but alas, we are human just as well." His fingers grabbed the Resurrection Stone out of habit and began stroking it lovingly. "Wizards carry a great deal of power. And with power comes corruption, which only serves to make us weak and susceptible to attacks." He pinned Ciel with a stare. "Your Queen has power and your Queen is corrupted."

"That means she is weak and susceptible to attacks, just as you said." Ciel's eye brightened. "She called on me. I had to accept the call. I could not _hide _in my manor. I'm going to play on her vulnerabilities and her power-hungry tendencies. If the topic is broached, I will sympathize with her attempts of bringing back the dead. I can also tell her I have a powerful wizard on my side and I will do everything in my power to aid her. She will be intrigued at the notion of having a wizard close at hand."

Harry narrowed his eyes on the boy. "I do not appreciate being used as a pawn."

Ciel opened his eye wide, a sort of mocking innocence lightening his face. "But you said you'd help me," he said in child-like helplessness before ruining the image and smirking sinisterly.

Harry voiced his disgust. "I have my own problems. I need to find a Dark Lord and I need to find out the extent of his allegiances with the Ministry and the Queen. Not to mention _whom _the demon is working for because he or she seems to be helping out the Ministry and the Dark Lord and just about everyone else. And let's not forget the pile of corpses…"

He knew the Queen had experimented on the bodies, but where did said bodies go? Were they the ones Malfoy had hidden in his manor? Or were _those _their own separate batch? Above all else, he needed to know how the murdered Auror trainees were tied into all this. The Muggle families they were sent to 'watch' or 'protect' had a direct hand in the Queen's experiments and the Queen had wanted to destroy the evidence of her wrongdoings, effectively wiping out the people who had aided her.

Harry was fairly certain he had a solid understanding of the Muggle side to this mystery. But Undertaker told Harry a man, Oliver Felix, who was the squib brother-in-law of Malfoy, was the Queen's direct advisor. Was he whispering in her ear on the Dark Lord's behalf? Was her decision to orchestra experiments her own selfish desire or had the Dark Lord somehow been involved?

It was a mess. And Harry intended to capture Oliver Felix for answers. It was what he had wanted to do before he found out Ciel made a foolhardy trip to London to visit the Queen.

"Does that mean you'll agree to be a pawn?" Ciel inquired casually.

Harry glanced at Sebastian, uneasy with the crimson stare he was receiving. The demon had a vacant look on his face, as if he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings. There was something extremely sinister brewing behind those eyes, as if he were envisioning something that was gruesomely and spine-chillingly horrifying. What was worse, the stare was directed at Harry in particular, an unspoken promise that whatever Malphas was envisioning had _everything _to do with Harry.

He pursed his lips, giving the demon a cool stare before turning back to Ciel. "I will make sure your visit to the Queen leaves you unscathed."

It wasn't an agreement to be a pawn, but it was a promise for protection. Ciel knew it for what it was and simply nodded, pleased with Harry's response. "The Queen does not favor public executions of her men, or at least she doesn't favor executions inside her own palace. I don't expect to be faced with any obstructions. I _will _be able to manipulate the Queen's favor of me."

Harry simply grunted, not in favor of approving obstruction-free plans unless they actually turned out to be as the name implied.

They arrived on the cobble path in front of the Buckingham Palace. As an expected guest of the Queen, Ciel was greeted cordially, escorted from his carriage with a graceful flourish. Harry followed after the guards and the servants, Sebastian falling into step besides him. They entered the ridiculously lavish palace, the amount of gold décor and crushed velvet almost blinding Harry. The sheer quantity of ornate furniture and designs made his eyes cross-eyed in disgust. He favored the architecture of the palace, but often time, over-decoration ruined it.

They were led through the sprawling structure before entering an open courtyard. The number of crimson-clad guards marching the perimeter of the courtyard was suspiciously many. Harry put his hands in his pockets and trotted after the crowd, his expression nonchalant and his gait even more so, yet his senses were open and cautious. The guards were marching in pairs or in fours, appearing as if they were on an automated timer and out doing afternoon exercises. Whatever purpose they had of dwelling in the courtyard, it seemed as if they did it periodically.

"The Queen wishes to see you. Alone." A butler bowed low before Ciel and held out a gloved hand towards an open porch across the courtyard.

Harry spied the Queen sitting on her pompous arse and indulging herself with tea and biscuits. She was too far to notice any distinguishable features, but Harry knew it was her. She had two men with her and another butler standing at the ready. Again, they were too far to see, but Harry wondered if the blond-haired man was Oliver Felix, the Squib he was looking for.

He _hoped _it was Felix.

Ciel barely glanced back at Sebastian and Harry as he followed a few guards towards the patio. The only sign of his acknowledgment to the situation was the light touch over his eye patch. His intentions were clear. If he needed assistance, he would call Sebastian.

"Please, enjoy the gardens and the architecture of the courtyard." The butler addressed Sebastian and Harry with a bow. "If you need any assistance at all, don't hesitate to ask me. I will be close by." And without another word, he and his long-tailed tuxedo retreated across the courtyard and back the way they came.

On edge, Harry caressed his wand in his pocket and gazed after Ciel. It shouldn't have been unusual to request a private audience. Surely, the kid couldn't bring his demon butler _everywhere_. Besides, if Harry wanted to, he could put audio surveillance around the open porch where the Queen sat. A simple surveillance charm would work, but that required silence on Harry's side. No matter where he went, he would be near the marching steps of the guards.

It hardly mattered. Ciel was in Harry's line of vision. If the Queen tried something, he could act instantly.

"Your neck is looking particularly bare."

The words were whispered across the back of Harry's neck, the tone both vindictive and seductive. Harry continued facing forward, keeping his eyes on Ciel as he met with his Queen. Death's words were still a hollow echo in his head, a reminder that he could never be with Sebastian. Even if what Death said were false, about demons not having mates, Harry would still be reluctant to start a relationship with the demon.

After all, when he died, Death had control over his soul. Judging from Michael's answer and his opinion toward demons, Harry assumed he could never truly stay with Sebastian. With a lot of power and concentration, Demons could jump timelines, but they needed to know where they were going. Malphas would have no inclination where Harry's soul jumped after his death.

"I want to keep working with you," Harry said lowly, professionally. "But I will not pursue a relationship with you."

Sebastian walked around him and came to a stop to his right. "I'm curious about many things, but I can settle with knowing what, exactly, he said to you that would change your mind. You seemed rather… prepared to continue where we left off last night. "

Green eyes focused forward, trying not to remember their time in the woods. "Remember when you asked me about my circumstances regarding immortality and the relationship I shared with Death?" He already came to the conclusion he would tell Malphas the truth. Any sort of half-truths or outright lies would come back at him.

"You said you needed to talk to Death before you answered my questions. Yes, I remember." Sebastian peered at Harry closely. "You've had your discussion. Now it's my turn to get your undivided attention."

Harry had trouble keeping his eyes on Ciel when Sebastian was so close. Somehow, he managed, but it wasn't particularly easy when he wanted to see the demon's expression after dropping _this. _"My soul is tied to Death, to Michael. When I die, he gets possession of my soul and delivers it to another alternative universe."

A brewing silence stemmed from Sebastian. "I had already known that."

Bemused, Harry glanced at the demon. "Really?"

"Of course. It is common sense, is it not?" Sebastian resumed his slow, languid pace around Harry. "Your soul had to get from one dimension to the next. Who else would be able to achieve that but Death himself? The question is _why_ he would he grant special immortality to you and only you."

Because Harry was already suspicious of Sebastian, he didn't feel remorseful about correcting the demon. In fact, he was a bit giddy. He stared into the crimson eyes, feeling a spark of wicked pleasure. "You misunderstood me. When I said my soul is tied to Death, I did not mean it figuratively but _literally_. Our souls are integrated together."

Sebastian stared, a shadow of Malphas darkening his features at the disclosure. His eyes traced Harry's wickedness and offered his own, half-smirk. It was a cover for how he truly felt. "You seem thrilled to break that to me. So harsh, Harry. And here I thought we'd been making progress."

Harry's smile widened and his eyes narrowed. "There is no such thing as demons having mates, Malphas," he whispered vindictively. Sebastian's eyes widened a fraction and Harry pressed forward. "You played me well, I admit. That whole scenario about my deepest desire of eternal companionship… it was brilliant. I can't condemn you for that, because, in part, it was my mistake for being so weak and susceptible."

"What are you implying?" Sebastian hissed softly, his butler persona slipping and showing a sliver of his demonic self. He seemed torn between wanting to be amused and furious. "Why would I possibly want to lie about you being my mate? To what _gain_?"

Stepping closer to the butler, Harry was unafraid as he stared into those sinful eyes. "My soul."

"I couldn't care a less about your soul." The demon was spitting in rage, hardly able to keep his voice down.

"I find that doubtful," Harry continued onward, though he was a bit taken aback at Sebastian's fierce rebuttal regarding his soul. "You're a demon and my soul is enchanting, you said so yourself. But you were unable to consume it. So you played on my vulnerabilities and offered companionship. You want me close and exposed so you can find a way to get past the barriers that protect my soul. Death said if you were to consume my soul, you would be sated for decades."

Sebastian stared at Harry, appearing speechless in his fury. The demon took a step back, as if to compose himself. He cast a sweeping glance across the courtyard, surveying the passing guards and the area his master occupied with the Queen. Finally, after a moment of silence and composure, Sebastian reached over and pressed a gloved hand to Harry's forehead.

"I don't blame you," the demon murmured quietly, keeping his eyes focused on a spot near Ciel and the Queen. "He is an archangel and I am a demon. You would believe his words, even if they were dipped with poison. Pity you are so blinded by black and white to comprehend common sense."

Harry slapped the hand away from his forehead. "Don't patronize me. I do not live in a black and white world."

The man's dark hair fell into his face as he turned and observed Harry. "What right does he have in determining how I _feel _and denying what you _want_?" Suddenly, a sadistic light brightened his eyes. "Do I have a competitor for your affections?" He didn't appear wary or angry, if anything, the very idea excited him.

"It's not like that." Harry's words were clipped and short.

A chuckle escaped Sebastian as he resumed his circling, apparently recovered from his earlier anger. "I'm not sure I believe you. You are rather naïve. I had to make my intentions very clear until you realized what I wanted. It would make sense, wouldn't it? You _are _my mate. He would lie to you and plant the seeds of doubt because it benefits him."

"It doesn't matter," Harry replied tiredly. Sebastian couldn't be right. Michael wouldn't… "I don't care if you are or aren't my mate. The fact of the matter is that I cannot be resurrected into this timeline. I also can't—and refuse—to be turned into a demon. I will not pursue this relationship. That's final."

"_Oh_," Sebastian purred, clearly reclaiming the upper hand in the conversation. "The impossible resurrection is another thing he could have lied about." He stopped at Harry's back and leaned forward, breathing into his ear. "I've given you enough time to figure out a solution to our _situation_, Harry. Now it's my turn."

Harry twitched as a chill crawled down his back. It seemed as if Sebastian still had ways to intimidate him, though he thought he was immune to the demon by now. Malphas only continued to surprise him. With sinking acceptance, Harry knew the demon had yet to reveal all his cards. How many times would Harry need to be reminded that Malphas was a high-ranking demon who was once an archangel?

"I want to continue working with you and Ciel—"

"With the boy," Sebastian corrected sharply. "I don't care about the Queen or the murders of the aristocrats. The only thing on my list of priorities is you and fulfilling my young master's orders so I can consume his soul. Everything else is merely a smokescreen. If hunting Dark Lords is what you enjoy doing to pass the time, then I will faithfully follow you."

Harry's eye grew half-lidded with frustration. "Be that as it may, I will cooperate with your master, but by no means will I stand by and let you manipulate my _life_."

The chuckle that came from Malphas was sarcastic. "The very same life you were bound and determined to end permanently?" Sebastian's gloved finger touched the back of Harry's neck. "No. If you will not honor the eternal life you have been given, then I will." The finger against his neck suddenly disappeared and the demon slid past Harry.

The wizard held his tongue, watching narrowly as the demon stared at the far end of the courtyard where the Queen and Ciel were situated. "What is it?" He looked at the Queen himself, not seeing anything besides an old woman conversing with a prim-and-proper child.

Sebastian took another step forward and then another, his attention focused solely on his master. Harry reached out to grab at the back of his coat, wanting to know what he sensed, but found himself falling forward instead. The blunt object that slammed to the back of his skull was enough to leave him disoriented and tasting blood. His arms stretched out to catch himself, but rough hands grabbed him before he hit the ground.

Sebastian whirled around just as four pairs of hands grabbed Harry's arms from behind. They pushed him forward, forcing him to bend at the waist and support their weight at his back. Harry grunted as they manhandled him, noticing the crimson-clad guards around the courtyard begin to surround him. One glimpse from behind showed eight men somehow physically connected to him, by either touching Harry or touching a guard that had a hand on Harry, creating a living-chain.

They knew he was a wizard and they had taken precautions against him Disapparating. There was no way he could take eight men with him in Side-Long Apparation.

Through narrowed eyes, he watched as the guards aimed their rifles at him, creating an unbreakable semi-circle around his detained form. Oddly enough, they were leaving Sebastian alone, though the demon had to be a larger threat. It only proved his suspicions. The Queen had to know Sebastian was a demon, as she already knew Harry was a wizard, yet she did not take action against Malphas.

Either she was afraid of the consequences or she didn't believe Sebastian would act without his master's direct orders. And Harry knew it was the latter. If Ciel's butler acted against the Queen, it would place Ciel Phantomhive at obvious odds with her. And considering Ciel had come here to try to pledge his allegiances with her, acting out against her order would destroy his cover.

Said demon was facing Harry, his crimson eyes alight with both rage and suspicion. But as expected, he stood motionlessly, expecting his master to OK an attack against her Majesty or wait until hearing the reasons behind such an assault.

A strong, unwavering voice resounded across the courtyard. "Take his wand."

Harry turned his head, watching as the Queen approached with Ciel at her side. With dull realization, Harry noticed Ciel appeared liberated, free, and utterly power-hungry. Whatever the child would do in this situation, one thing was for certain. He wouldn't be telling his demon to assist Harry. The betrayal stung. Harry wouldn't lie to himself over such petty things. He had hoped… he had _hoped.._.

Rough hands groped him, finding the Elder Wand fairly quickly. Through lidded eyes, Harry watched as it was passed hand to hand until it was presented to the Queen. The woman was elderly, yet still regal. She looked as if Christmas had come again as she accepted the wand. Unfortunately, she was one-hundred-percent Muggle. The wand would not harm her physically as it would any other wizard culprit. To the wand, she was hardly a threat to its master. Upon physical contact, it would remain dormant.

"Pity," Harry drawled. "You do not have the power to wield it." He was unconcerned for his wand. Whether he liked it or not, it always made it back to his hand. The same disregard was directed toward the guards pointing their weapons at him. He'd let them have their fun and their self-assurances. If he really wanted to, he could escape their hold.

She looked down at him, a considering light to her eyes. "I heard you are the Master of Death." The silence around the courtyard was unnatural and her words were strong, crisp, rising above even the distant ring of civilian noise outside the walls of the palace. "They say you are the master of Death himself, otherwise known as Michael, the archangel. They say you always cheat death, that you can even bring back the dead."

Mirth bubbled up Harry's throat and he began laughing. The Queen gave him a skeptical look, not at all impressed or affected with his slip in sanity. "That's a _very _interesting theory. And just who is your source?

The Queen held her cards close and merely admired the wand. "Remarkable. This wand was a simple piece to the inconceivable power you now possess. It is one of the three Deathly Hallows. They were created centuries ago, yet you were the first and only one to master them. It is said, to become the Master of Death, one must possess all three Deathly Hallows and also accept death itself… almost… welcome it."

Harry kept his eyes on her, his expression blank, yet his eyes spiteful. Whoever her source was, they knew a great deal.

Her brown eyes tore away from the wand and focused on him. "I find it horrifying to imagine a mere _child_, a seventeen-year-old boy, who would accept death so easily. You were never told of the true extent of the Hallows, so you accepted death on your own free will." She paused and studied him with remarkable intensity. "They say you were raised like a sacrificial pig, a simple martyr. Since your birth, no less. And you've been sacrificing yourself to this very day."

Harry tossed his head and chuckled again, though he was preoccupied. How _did _she know of his childhood?

"You asked how a child could accept death so easily." He lowered his chin and gazed at her bland defiance. "It has nothing to do with age, or acceptance, only that I _knew _there were fates much worse than death." Harry avoided any sort of eye contact with Ciel or Sebastian, knowing the latter was too intrigued for his own good and the former watching with his own sense of betrayal.

They both had wanted to know the details surrounding his immortality. Harry had denied them. But the Queen was now giving them all the answers, answers he had wanted to keep private. The simple irony.

"If that is true, you must realize that is mature thinking for one so young. You can only imagine who instilled that thinking in you, who _conditioned _you to take the mantle of the Master of Death." She raised her eyebrows superiorly, as if she _knew _Harry from the inside out. "Who was it that groomed you to be a martyr, Harry?"

"No one," he spat, his rage spiking. "Those who endure a life of suffering and struggle understand that death is but a peaceful end, the next greatest adventure." Harry gave a twisted smile, staring at her without really seeing her. "I pity you for not having the capability of seeing that."

"If you do not cooperate, I will pity _you_." The Queen nodded her head at the guards behind Harry. "I want to see the second Hallow. Give me his ring."

Harry stayed motionless, though they acted as if he'd put up a struggle. A few elbows dug into his back and a hand twisted his arm around painfully. The finger that housed the Resurrection Stone was bent backward, causing the joint to snap. Harry exhaled lowly through the pain, hardly flinching and refusing to cry out. He watched through lowered lashes as they wiggled the ring free and passed it towards the Queen.

The ring, it seemed, was the Queen's ultimate prize. He couldn't blame her. When he learned of the Hallows, the ring was also the most appealing. He watched as her eyes brightened and narrow on the piece of jewelry with wonder. But she did not take it from the guard's outstretched palm.

"You once asked me who my source was." The Queen raised her lofty chin and smiled regally at Harry. "Why, who else would be my source but the one who crafted these Hallows?"

Harry slumped bonelessly, too surprised, too shocked, to stay upright. For so many years, he had wanted to know the one who was responsible for the Hallows. In the beginning, he always assumed it was Death himself, but was proved wrong when Michael informed him it was a demon who contracted with the three brothers. And who else would be that demon but the very same one who was putting such a thorn in his side as of late?

The guards protested when Harry collapsed, pulling him back to his feet forcibly.

"_You_," Harry spat, his world washed in red as a doe-eyed child stepped out from behind the Queen. Even though she was veiled in child-like innocence and youth, Harry knew exactly who it was. The wide eyes of the girl possessed an obvious glimmer of wickedness. "Beleth!" He sprung, but was quickly restrained by the guards holding him back. They wrestled him to the ground, smashing his face into the cobblestones.

He couldn't see, but he could hear the child's laughter and Ciel's sharp order.

"Sebastian, I order you to stand back."

Through his sweat-coated hair, Harry angled his head and spied Sebastian standing between him and Beleth. Though he stopped short at Ciel's order, he did not take any steps back. He held his ground, gazing at the high-ranking demon with cool warning. Harry remembered Malphas explaining that demons were rather civil to one another in hell. If one angered or intentionally got in one's way when they were contracted above ground, it was forgiven and forgotten when they encountered each other in hell again.

But Sebastian had _claimed_ he would hold it against Beleth if she did anything against Harry.

Harry would see how far Malphas would go to keep his word. He would see firsthand how much Sebastian was willing to protect him in lieu of his master and his _friends _from hell. If he really was the demon's bloody mate, Malphas wouldn't stand back. It was enough reason to stay placate. And despite his burning rage, he wanted to know _why _Beleth was here, working for Harry's enemies.

Hadn't she done enough?

"I have no business with you." Beleth soured, her childish face morphing into cool regard as she glanced at Sebastian. "Just the human you're protecting." Her small, thin fingers curled around the Resurrection Stone and she admired it before pinning Harry with a stare. "Hold him up."

The guards yanked Harry off the ground once more, struggling to keep him still and motionless. He complied, reluctantly, and watched as Beleth took another step forward, only to be stopped once more by Sebastian. The child-demon flashed the butler's territorial pose an amused look before smiling cruelly.

"That's fine," she whispered. "I can destroy him from a distance."

"What is your aim, exactly?" Harry demanded, tired of the dominance-play between Beleth and Sebastian. "If it's true that you had a hand in constructing the Deathly Hallows, then you would know the Master of Death cannot be rid of the Hallows. Why are you working for a Muggle who wishes to possess a power she can never have? Or the Dark Lord, for that matter, if that is his goal."

The Queen was watching the interaction with a sense of control. Fool that she was, she actually thought she had a solid hold on the situation. Pity there were two, high-ranking demons in the vicinity who could unsettle the situation with a tip of a hat. Then again, they were leashed demons who had their own orders to abide to.

Maybe the Queen _did _have authority.

Beleth cocked her head to the side and her eyes flashed an unnerving yellow. "I know you must have many questions." She turned the ring over in her palm and smiled cutely at Harry. "All you have to know is that I was the one to give the Deathly Hallows the _real _power, the power of immortality. I'm sure Michael would enjoy explaining the entire story." She paused. "As for her Majesty, the Queen wishes to use you for your power of bringing back the dead."

Harry stilled, recognizing the wary amusement in Beleth's gaze. If she smiled any wider, her razor sharp teeth would puncture her bottom lip. They both knew Harry couldn't bring back the dead. That meant Beleth and her master, most likely the Dark Lord, was still in need of the Queen's services. For whatever reason, they were humoring her and keeping her alive.

"And the Dark Lord…" Beleth trailed off, her high-pitched and childlike voice lowering into a whisper. "Well, he is very interested in meeting with you."

"Really?" Harry barked irritably. "He must be of the shy sort, then."

Beleth's bell-like laugh would have been adorable had it belonged to another. Instead, with the vicious and vindictive gleam in her eyes, the giggle sounded like something straight out of a horrific tale. "He couldn't make it today. But he wanted me to send his regards." Her mirth fell and her fingers continued to turn the ring over in her palm. "He also wishes to tell you that he's found a way to end your very existence, despite your endless quest to do it yourself."

Harry reared in the arms of the guards when he felt the shift of atmosphere, the familiar pull the Resurrection Stone produced when it was activated. Grey and blue hues seemed to grow more prominent and the world seemed to drop in temperature. Surprised murmuring spread across the crowd of spectators, the Queen's hushed approval somehow the loudest.

Beleth rocked on her heels and tapped them together joyfully.

Harry couldn't hear any of it. A sharp, high-pitched ringing echoed inside his ears as figures emerged from his past. Though they might have died appearing differently, or they might have changed forms in the afterlife, they appeared before Harry in the form he remembered them best. Dumbledore, Sirius, Hermione, Ron, Lily, James… even the people he'd gotten to know and love from his other lives were there. All of them. Beleth was conjuring _all of them_.

They were real too. Though just shades of his past loved ones, they were still the real soul, disorientated, but so very real. There was a reason why Harry had never called on anyone other than his mother. Simultaneously, they turned to look at Harry, seeing him as the only familiar object in such a harsh, unfamiliar world. In their eyes, he saw nothing but pity and bitter remembrance.

In their eyes, it was a reminder that they had each other and he was forever cursed with immortality. What made it worse was that it was in front of all these strangers. Every last one of them was witnessing his weakness. It was _humiliating. _

Harry bowed his head in the face of their shades' pity, his body shuddering. "If you _think _that will destroy me… you are sadly mistaken." With each word, he built up his bravado.

He'd dealt with his immortality before. He'd come to _terms _with it. Hadn't he? Eventually, there would be an end. Death would take his hand and lead him to the afterlife. Before that time, Sebastian had given him a solid acceptance of his eternity. There would be other things to do, to see, to accomplish, to master…

He didn't _need _people as anchors. He _wasn't _affected by their memory.

Among the Muggle's awed and fearful exclamations, Harry heard the unnatural rustle of leaves and dirt directly beside him. He turned slowly, staring at Ginny, her seventeen-year-old self finally conjured. Her eyes were just as compassionate and compelling as they had been in life. The pity in her gaze wasn't as strong as the others were. She only looked at him with concern.

They might have drifted and parted before he killed himself, but she had always been the one who understood him best.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered softly. "What have they done to you?" Her eyes flickered over Harry's shoulder before she outstretched her arm.

At first, Harry imagined she was reaching for him, to touch him once again. But her hand bypassed and stretched toward another figure that arrived late. As Harry turned to look, he acknowledged the dim pain in his gut. He had already expected it, knowing it was inevitable _not _to see him again, his son.

James stood before Harry, appearing no older than thirteen. Perhaps it was because Harry preferred remembering his son when he was younger than his own immortal age of seventeen, or maybe it was because he'd been around Ciel too long and constantly reminded of James when he was that age.

All the shades were disquieting, but they did not grate on Harry as he would have thought. It proved that he'd slowly begun to accept his immortality, his isolation. Granted, it was hard at times, especially with the recent revelation that Sebastian would not be the eternal companion he'd hoped for. But overall, Harry found it conceivable to stay standing in the face of his past.

However, the most difficult part of it was looking his son in the eyes. Possessing startling similarity to Harry, James had inherited Ginny's eyes. When they weren't sparkling with mischief, they held a deep, compassionate wisdom. They were not the eyes of a thirteen-year-old, but an old soul.

James smiled sadly as he looked up at Harry. "It's ok, dad," he whispered. "I don't blame you for leaving. I've only missed you."

A choked, bitter exhalation escaped Harry's lips. What had he expected? All these years, he'd only anticipated James' disappointment for the abandonment. He'd thought he would experience guilt and remorse far sharper than he was already experiencing, a type of repentance for abandoning his child. But instead, Harry received closure.

It was closure on another chapter of his life, one he had been reluctant to close.

Harry began laughing and he looked up at Beleth, noticing the smile faltering from the demon's lips. "Thank you," he said boldly, "for doing something that I was too cowardly to do myself. Truly, your actions are admirable. I hadn't expected such benevolence from the Dark Lord and his minions."

Perhaps he should have forgone the mocking, for Beleth clamped her hand more firmly over the ring. The shades of his past all disappeared with the exception of Harry's son. James stood before him, his form seemingly becoming solider, more real. Harry looked on with concern, never witnessing this kind of power from the Stone. Surely…

James suddenly gasped, his expression twisting in horror and pain. He doubled over, clutching his abdomen. Harry struggled against the restraining arms, growing more frantic when James began screaming. It couldn't be possible! Could Beleth have a way of bringing back the dead and making them suffer? Their soul suffer?

"It's just an illusion."

Harry tore his eyes away from James and looked toward Sebastian. The butler stood stiffly, staring at Harry. His expression was hard to discern, but his eyes were intense.

"Your son left with the others." Sebastian nodded at James with his chin. "This is just an illusion."

Even if it was an illusion, it wasn't something Harry could stand by and watch. He tugged at the guard fiercely, causing the crimson-clad man to bend forward. When he was within range, Harry threw his head back and slammed his skull into the man's face. With a startled cry of pain coming from the man behind him, Harry's arm was released. He threw his free elbow in the other guard's nose, effectively releasing himself from their hold.

Harry lunged for Beleth and the Queen, but in the last moment, he dodged left and reached for Oliver Felix. The Queen's aid gave a startled yelp, took a step back, and Disapparated.

_Disapparated_. The last time a Squib Disapparated was Side-Long Apparation with a wizard, never a _solo _trip_. _Either Undertaker misinformed Harry about Felix being a Squib or Felix had deceived the Undertaker and the Queen.

He didn't get long to contemplate, for a force struck him in the back and ripped through his chest. Startled, Harry looked down, seeing the gunshot wound but having trouble recognizing it for what it was. As his fingers came back bloody, his eyes rolled in the back of his skull and he collapsed to the ground.

**Deliver Us**

When he came back to consciousness, he was aware of the persistent dripping. It sounded like water hitting concrete from a high altitude. The more it dripped the more water it seemed to gather beneath it. His surroundings were cold. And hard. Harry's chest hurt and there was a heavy weight around his neck.

"Will you change your mind, Mr. Potter?"

Harry roused himself, blinking open his eyes and focusing on the ceiling. He was on the ground of a dungeon cell and the stone ceiling above him was a murky grey. Craning his neck just slightly, he spied the small audience outside the bars of his cell. The Queen was the one who had spoken, her expression void of anything but mild displeasure. The displeasure was probably due to the smells the dungeon was secreting and not from any regret she may have felt for Harry's situation.

"About?" Harry croaked, feeling as if his head weighed too much to lift properly.

"Offering your services freely," she replied stiffly. "I would prefer if we got off to a positive start. It would be easier for everyone involved if you came willingly. I don't wish to break you."

His fingers brushed the area the bullet had pierced, noticing it was sore, but fully healed. It had to be magic that saved him. Someone on the Queen's list of allies was a wizard. He had his suspicions that it was Oliver Felix. "I'm afraid I don't know what services you are referring to." He dropped his fingers from his chest and caressed the thick, metal collar around his neck. "I'm useful for many things…"

"Bringing back the dead, of course."

Harry stilled and rolled over on his stomach, propping himself up on an elbow and facing his cell door. He could see Ciel and Beleth standing behind the Queen, both of them of equal height and age, and both possessing sullen frowns. Harry even spied Sebastian in the background. Green eyes lingered over the demon, trying not to feel the bitter sense of betrayal. Apparently, Sebastian thought more highly of his next meal then Harry's safety.

But he quickly quelled his disappointment. He'd get out himself.

"You have the Stone," Harry responded tiredly. "You bring back the dead yourself."

"I have been informed that the ring may not stay forever in my possession, as you are its true master." The Queen raised her eyebrows expectantly. "We both know the ring is only a temporary solution. I want the dead back permanently."

Harry raked a hand through his hair and stared at the ground of his cell. For a moment, he let them stew in silence, anticipation. "And who do you like to curse?" he asked innocently. Slowly, he looked up at the Queen's hard face. She didn't let it show, but he knew she was bemused at his question. "Who would you like to pull from the peaceful afterlife and thrust into a hell like this? You must be one selfish _bitch _to condemn someone to that fate."

The Queen's expression hardened further and her dark eyes were stone. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Mr. Potter." She nodded to Beleth before sweeping her pompous arse from the dungeons.

Harry watched her go before looking at Ciel. "And what about you? What do you get out of all this?" he questioned stonily. "Do you get more gold? More prestige? From a child who has everything, but sees nothing, I should have expected this." Slowly he got to his feet, trying his best not to sway despite the spinning room.

Ciel scowled. "It was about you all along." He leaned on his cane and gazed at Harry from the other side of the bars. "All this time, they were after you; the Queen and the Dark Lord. You kept Sebastian and I in the dark about your status as Master of Death, effectively putting us all in danger. I gain nothing in return for your capture, only my life back."

Standing solitarily, Harry gazed at the boy, unsure of what to feel. "Good luck."

The Earl blinked at the ambiguous comment, clearly not having expected the whispered words of good fortune. Despite his pride, the boy forced himself to ask. "For what?"

Harry approached the cell door. "For finding what you're looking for in life, whether that be purpose, revenge, or damnation… I hope you find it and are satisfied with the results." He hated the kid, but he couldn't really blame the boy. Ciel was right. The Queen and Dark Lord were evidently after the Master of Death. The boy was saving his own skin, it was something Harry could only expect from human nature.

As soon as his hands curled over the bars to his cell, an excruciating pain erupted through his body. Harry released the bars and scrambled backward, biting his tongue to stop the screams. The pain originated from the collar around his neck. He didn't know if he felt as if his insides were on fire or if imaginary blades were plunging deep into his flesh. Maybe both.

He fell to his knees and bowed his neck, forcing his hair to veil his expression from the spectators. Blood from his bitten tongue trickled from the corner of his mouth and steadily dripped to the ground. Eventually, the pain subsided, but the after effects made his body weak.

"From what I understand, you were once tortured to death in one of your previous lifetimes." It was Beleth. "I realize that you may be immune to most pain tactics, which is why the collar is only a precaution against your escape. I've been around wizards long enough to know some are capable of wandless magic. If you call on your magic, of any sort, the collar will eat away at your core. If you come too close to the cell door, you will experience pain."

Harry grunted, far from defeated. He would find a way out.

"If you do not believe me, I welcome you to try casting a wandless spell."

Slowly looking up from his hunched position, he noticed Ciel had left. Only Beleth and Sebastian remained, the latter an unreadable statue. Harry gave him a fathomable stare, never more disgusted with the demon as he was then. A parasite would always be a parasite. How Harry thought any differently, he didn't know.

Beleth noticed his wandering attention and smiled sweetly. "If anyone should be looking forward to your imminent destruction, it should be you, Malphas." The child-demon was hardly affected by Sebastian's scorn. "After all, he could have been your downfall. And we both know how much you enjoy power and ranking."

The doe-eyed girl waved at Harry before trotting towards the exit. Before she could leave entirely, Sebastian quickly took the bait.

"Explain," he demanded darkly.

Harry remained on his knees, keeping in his dark corner. He watched as Beleth turned to look at Sebastian from over her shoulder. There was nothing deceitful about her expression. If anything, Harry recognized her eagerness as something one would experience when they knew how much a truth would harm the listener.

"Demons don't have mates, silly." She giggled and winked at Harry. "Angels do." Her humor died abruptly and she scrutinized Sebastian with an air of antipathy. "Apparently, you aren't _entirely_ Fallen, Malphas. You have a chance at redemption, a chance through Harry Potter."

"You lie," Sebastian hissed, clearly distraught at the mere mention of 'redemption'.

"No. The truth is so much more satisfying." She flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Why do you think mates are so rare in hell? Even you are oblivious to their true meaning. Most of the demons that have identified their mate have been redeemed or they've just destroyed their mate. It's a bit of an embarrassment. I would imagine many would be scandalized to know such a high-ranking demon, such as yourself, has a sliver of goodness left within him."

Harry marveled at the revelation. If he was honest with himself, it didn't sound so unbelievable. Demons having mates sounded farfetched. Angels having mates was… farfetched, but not as ridiculous as the former notion. Raising his chin, Harry endured Sebastian's sudden scrutiny, realizing the demon was looking at him as if he'd never laid eyes on him before.

"He was such a mediocre angel," Beleth addressed Harry. "Why would he go back to an ordinary existence when he has so much more power as a demon?" She began walking away, leaving Sebastian alone with Harry. "Be fortunate I warned you before things got too out of hand, Malphas."

It was indescribable. Harry wondered at the turbulence of emotions he was experiencing. Ciel's betrayal shouldn't have bothered him, the Queen's selfishness shouldn't have affected him, Beleth's appearance and role shouldn't have surprised him, Michael's decision to exclude information shouldn't have disappointed him, and Sebastian's inactivity and repugnance shouldn't have hurt him.

He was supposed to be jaded, immune. Nothing should have made him experience this level of emptiness and loneliness.

Crimson eyes stared at him from the other side of the cell. Without so much as a word, the demon turned his heel and fled the dungeon, leaving Harry alone.

**From Sorrow's Hold**

"_Ah_!" Undertaker tapped his fingers cheerfully against the counter. "Darling, you should really wait for me in the backroom. We have a particular customer who might become quite disagreeable." He peeled back the shadows of his shop and spied the dark aura lurking impatiently. As much as he'd prefer making the entity wait, he knew better when said entity was giving off an aura as dark as _that. _

Claudia glanced coolly around the room before rising from her position near the coffins. Without so much as a protest, she gracefully swept from the front room and disappeared in the back. Unknowns to her, the demon emerged from the shadows and watched her departure with cruel speculation.

"Butler, so good to see you again." Undertaker executed a fancy flourish with his sleeves, motioning toward the leather and the shower of black feathers. "Or should I say… Malphas?" His pupils dilated in the face of a fully revealed demon.

Unlike the fear humans experienced in front of demons, his shinigami senses were more along the lines of eager determination to hunt and exterminate. Briefly, he pondered on the Master of Death. Would Harry experience something relatively similar? He could order around shinigamis, yet his soul was still entirely human. Most likely, he would experience fear. He…

"Is the proposition still valid?"

Undertaker forcibly concentrated on the current and tittered at his slip in awareness. How silly of him. "I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific than that, Butler." He held his sleeves up to his face and inhaled. He so enjoyed the smell of his lilac perfume, a tonic he used on his corpses. A little dab here and there never harmed anyone. "I make propositions every day."

Malphas narrowed his eyes and his wings flexed irritably. Wings that did not fly must be a burden…

"I want to know everything there is to know about Harry Potter. I want to see it. I want to hear it."

The ex-shinigami perked up and removed the lilac-smelling sleeves from his face. "And you'll terminate your contract with Ciel Phantomhive and refrain from consuming his soul? You'll continue protecting him—"

"I am not his shadow," the demon hissed darkly, any sort of humanity he might have achieved in his butler-persona now gone. "I will protect him if I become aware of any danger to his person. However, you must realize my main priority is Harry." The dark entity held up the back of his palm, the glowing Faustian Contract marked across his skin. "Just say the word and I will terminate it."

Somber, Undertaker mused at the proposition. "You would be an unleashed demon…"

Now _that _would be a serious complication he hadn't considered before. Demons could find ways above ground without being called, but their power wouldn't be as strong as it would be if they weresummoned. However, if a demon formed a Contract with their summoner, their abilities would also be reduced. It was when they were summoned and free of a Contract when they were their most powerful.

Malphas stared at him. "Beleth is unchained."

"Is she?" Undertaker smiled pleasantly. "Two high-ranking demons creating havoc on earth. Michael would be displeased, very displeased. As a shinigami, I really shouldn't absolve this, much less be responsible for it." He shrugged. "It's a good thing I'm an ex-shinigami, eh?"

No humor registered across Malphas' face and Undertaker marveled at a joyless existence.

"You will be able to show me his past, correct?" Malphas asked skeptically.

"Your demon friend has the ability to see someone's past, but shinigamis are also a reservoir to the past. Or, really, the future in Harry's case." Undertaker conjured his Death Scythe and embedded the blade just inches from the demon's hand. Regrettably, no matter how impressive his flourish was, the demon never flinched.

"They are my memories _of _his past…" Undertaker trailed off and snickered. "Although, I _have _nicked Harry with the Death Scythe once before. Shh, don't tell him. It didn't affect him, but she remembers his memories all the same. Don't you?" he stroked the Scythe lovingly. "She remembers every human she's ever touched. It will be simple to reveal his memories, though it's only his first lifetime."

"That's fine." The demon was curt, cold. "As long as it includes his history with the Deathly Hallows."

Undertaker froze in his ministrations. Slowly, he looked up at the demon, revealing his bright green eyes. "So you know," he mused carefully. "Beleth told you? About many things, I imagine." He narrowed his eyes. "You know, you cannot reverse the Deathly Hallows. Harry will always be tied to Michael."

Silence stretched and Malphas seemed to blend completely with the shadows. The only thing visible was the crimson eyes, which were currently directed on Undertaker. It was a stare even Undertaker had trouble meeting for very long. "His soul is _mine_. He is mine."

"No need to be so possessive with _me_." Undertaker waved a dismissive hand.

"I assume you knew only angels had mates?" The word 'mate' was uttered with almost the same loathing as the word 'angel'. "Did you know this whole time? Was it all a game to you?"

Undertaker bowed his head, trying to veil his smile. "You know, they often say you cannot have your cake and eat it too. I imagine, it couldn't be truer when applied to your relationship with Harry." He swooned. "A tragic tale. He cannot turn into a demon and you cannot—_correction_—choose not to be redeemed. One must make sacrifices if they want something."

A hand swiped out and grabbed him around his collar. Malphas leered down at him, his eyes narrowed sinisterly. "I will have my cake and eat it too."

Undertaker blinked before he snorted. Eventually, his merriment grew to loud laughter. "_Fufu_! I can't take you seriously when you say that all sinister-like. Really, Butler, that isn't exactly something you'd say to send hair-raising chills down my spine." He was released abruptly and even his loss of balance couldn't muffle his amusement.

"Do we have a deal?" Malphas pressed, clearly unaffected by Undertaker's mirth.

"Yes, yes."

He watched as the glowing Faustian Contract on the back of the demon's palm suddenly disappeared. And just the same moment, the aura around the shop darkened even further, and this time, it was enough to completely subdue Undertaker. This was power that Undertaker hadn't experienced in centuries. A fully unleashed demon, especially one as powerful as Malphas, was a force to be reckoned with.

Undertaker knew Malphas had the potential to destroy anything in his way. If he really wanted to, he could bring hell on earth. But there were certain factors that held him back, at least for now. Although, if the demon were pushed far enough, he wouldn't care about those factors and he wouldn't hesitate to unleash his fury to get what he wanted.

It wasn't too damning. Beleth was also unleashed. If Undertaker was right in his assumptions regarding Beleth's and the Dark Lord's plans for Harry, any help was imperative. At least this way, Harry and the Dark Lord were on equal footing. They both had a powerful, unleashed demon at their command.

Michael wouldn't agree, but Undertaker was eager to see what kind of destruction would result from this.


End file.
